#How Do I Get My Car Back From M

[pilonciillo]

lol didn’t think someone giving money would give me anxiety

[kurooh]

❤︎ LOVE POTIONS ! — MY HERO ACADEMIA

⊹₊˚. VALENTINE’S DAY 2025 — aphrodisiacs are both a curse and a blessing. / midoriya izuku, bakugo katsuki, todoroki shoto, kirishima eijirou, kaminari denki, & takami keigo.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs / sex pollen, dirty talk, edging, brattiness, overstimulation, squirting, threesome, sickness but it’s sexy, breeding kink, unprotected sex.

xoxo, juno. everyone pretend it’s v-day 💘

MIDORIYA IZUKU.

⟡ getting hit by a villain’s quirk right before valentine’s day was not something you’d planned to do. somehow, the effects of the quirk end up being an early gift and also a curse.

fat tears race down izuku’s face, his hands grasping weakly at the sheets with each dizzying bounce of your ass onto his thighs. an hour has passed, spent in different positions around the house with less than five minute breaks in between—but no matter how many times you cum, the glowy pink ring around your irises doesn’t go away.

“too much, ‘s too much,” he slurs, words running into each other and becoming jumbled nonsense. ���baby, i can’t, not anymore—shit! ‘m empty now, and it h-hurts so bad.”

“hurts?” you parrot disbelievingly, too deep under the spell to feel the burn in your thighs. “‘zuku, know what hurts?”

“no, i know,” he sobs, balls squeezing painfully as the familiar pressure returns to his cock. it’s familiar, but it’s not the same; there’s no cum involved, he’s been drained too dry to give you anything. “l-last time, please. i need a minute to, ngh, relax.”

it hurts. izuku’s cock is practically purple with overstimulation, but he’s too entranced to pull you off himself. when you’d arrived home, tugging at his belt and babbling about what had happened, izuku took a moment to consider if he had any notes on something like this.

villains with these types of quirks have always been rare, and it’s just his luck that one popped up before valentine’s day.

the couch groans from the combination of movement and weight on it, yawning with wear. izuku has never underestimated your strength or sex drive, but this . . you’re bouncy, and he’s wondering if the villain’s quirk enhanced your stamina too.

in a startling display of affection, you grab at his jaw and kiss away his tears, cooing sweet, sensual nothings into his ear. your voice is smooth when you tell him how good he’s doing, how sexy he looks when he’s whining so sweetly. just when he’s thinking it can’t get any better, you hit him where he’s weakest with a sultry murmur of want you to put a baby in me, izuku.

flustered, he can’t help but let out a squeal when you nip at his neck, kissing over previous bites and smatterings of freckles.

“do what you want with me,” he surrenders, verdant green eyes meeting your own. “hah, if that’s what you want, jus’ use me. fuck me, baby.”

BAKUGO KATSUKI.

⟡ you have the misfortune of tracking a villain with japan’s number one hero, the all too explosive dynamight. everything completely unravels during the confrontation, when katsuki’s rushing forward to deliver the final blow. the dastardly villain releases a thick, noxious smoke that fills the air with a sickening sweetness — despite all the coughing and hacking, he manages to subdue the villain until the police arrive, but you never make it back to the agency to regroup.

ridiculous, is all you can think as you’re being folded in half in the back of a company car that’s sneakily wedged in an alleyway. katsuki’s not-so-gentle teeth nip at the tender skin of your thighs, and he doesn’t think twice about the marks that are sure to show up by tomorrow.

“d-deeper, katsuki,” you writhe against the seats, too handsy for his liking. “please, it’s not deep eno—”

“shut it,” he grunts, scowling down at you. his usual expression doesn’t quite have the same effect it usually does, since it’s been mellowed out by the villain’s aphrodisiac like quirk. “don’t you dare tell me how to fuck, got it?”

a bratty huff escapes you, and you make a show of rolling your eyes at him, seemingly unimpressed. “i wouldn’t have to if you’d just do it right. oh, but who am i to judge the number one?”

a vein bulges from his forehead as he listens, crimson eyes seething silently while you continue to lay it on thick. “i guess dynamight can fuck however he wants, even if it’s subpar—”

in an instant, katsuki’s hand is on your throat and applying just enough pressure to force out a gasp from you. that teasing and talking back worked—now he’s really about to come undone, show you just how strong the number one pro can really be.

“can’t take that back now, can you? if you think you can insult me and order me around, oh,” katsuki grinds his teeth, pressing your knees into your chest without taking a moment to appreciate the pretty moan that leaves you. “fuck, you’ve got another thing coming. shut your mouth.”

“make me.”

he can’t seem to recall a time where he’s ever been this turned on—that aphrodisiac quirk’s got nothing on the way you talk to him, challenge him in a way that nobody has before.

katsuki draws his hips back, slow and deliberate in each movement. you were right, he wasn’t giving you his all; but now, he will, and he won’t stop until you eat your words. deeper? harder? faster? if that’s what you’re asking for, he’ll give it to you.

you watch breathlessly, mesmerized by the frustrated scrunch of his face, all because he can’t stop replaying your words in his head. a harsh slap to your clit snaps you out of your daze the moment it lands, stinging terribly.

“let’s work up to that, alright? you’re going to—”

“what if i don’t, katsuki?” you tip your chin up at him, looking down your nose at him. “then what?”

another slap, this time with a little more strength behind it. he disregards everything you just said, getting ready to give you an explosive orgasm you’ll have to work hard for.

“that’s what. now, let’s try that again—you’ll be good and count each slap, unless you want me to spank this slutty pussy raw,” satisfied by the responding clench of your cunt, he arches a brow and smirks. “your choice, brat.”

TODOROKI SHOTO.

⟡ with a new, unstable virus spreading rapidly through japan, scientists are racing to develop a cure. it seems to act like the standard flu, but it affects quirk users differently—shoto ends up with an unusual kind of fever.

“ah, ‘m cumming, sho,” cum squirts from your pussy like a waterfall, and everything’s so overwhelming that you unintentionally push his cock out. “good, ‘s so fucking good.”

sweat coats his face, clinging to the rough scar on shoto’s left side. panting, he sucks in a breath, grasping around for his swollen cock.

“i’m sorry,” his voice cracks once his tip slides through your sticky folds and makes your back jolt off the bed, “it’s just—shit, it’s not enough.”

“a-again? i, hah, don’t know if that’s a good—”

shoto shakes his head, shivering as a thin layer of frost appears on his right cheek; it sparkles brilliantly before melting into droplets of water that drip from his jaw. “i’m still burning up,” it’s completely out of bounds, but the low rasp of his sickly voice scratches an itch in your brain. “see, lovey? can’t even use my quirk to fix it.”

a sigh escapes you, and you spread your trembly thighs one more time. “i might be too tired to drive you to the hospital after this,” you warn.

“i know, but baby,” gratefully, shoto pushes forward, burying his cock to the hilt inside you. his warm hand settles on your lower belly to add some pressure, gearing you up for another explosive orgasm. “i don’t wanna be like this when we go to the hospital.”

he flushes darkly with embarrassment, and the mental image of a tortured shoto rutting into a hospital bed as waves of the fever’s severe effects overwhelm him is enough to make you soften.

once he starts to thrust, developing a rhythm that would put your own fingers to shame, his mouth drops open and he’s babbling incoherently. “ . . always so fucking hot around you, baby. i-it’s not my fault you’re so—haa, shit—so perfect, making me burn up whenever you’re not looking.”

and because being this deep inside you is as close as he can get to heaven, shoto sees no reason to hold back on the honest praise. he’s always been a little shy to express himself during sex, mouth drying up whenever he tries to say something rather dirty, but not now. since his brain is being fried by the heat at the moment, he won’t feel any embarrassment.

“sho, right there,” a breath is punched out of your lungs, and your nails scratch at his shoulders each time his tip kisses your sweet spot. “oh god, ‘m gonna make a mess again!”

his cock twitches and he moans your name, only egging you on. “can’t wait to taste it, darling.”

you fall off the edge, his words serving as the final push. euphoria curls through you, cresting like a wave until the sensitivity becomes too much, bringing you back to earth. abs clenching, shoto pulls out to cover your stomach in white.

in an instant, shoto’s temperature drops. quietly, he shivers against you, huffing into your neck.

“i want to stay like this before we leave.”

“you’ve got ice forming rapidly on your back, sho.”

“it’ll melt if i’m cuddling with you . . could you also rub my back? maybe i just need to sleep it off.”

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU.

⟡ eijirou listened to you specifically tell him NOT to eat the wrapped cookies you had in the fridge and when you left, he did exactly that.

“babe, baby, you feel so good,” cum races down his fingers in creamy rivulets, puddling at the base of his cock. caught up in his fantasy, eijirou flicks his wrist faster, hoping with all his heart to imitate the hot squeeze of your cunt. “s-so pretty when you take me, always so fuckin’ beautiful.”

his voice cracks just as the door opens, and your purse falls to the floor. your boyfriend is spread out on the bed, flushed feverishly and gasping out your name like he’s delirious—it would be the perfect scene to come home to if you didn’t spot two torn cookie wrappers near him.

“eijirou,” you speak his name lowly, catching his eyes and raising a brow. he’s not sure if he should feel awkward or turned on because of your scolding tone, so he just swallows dryly and looks toward you with hooded eyes. “already forgot the speech i gave you? why’d you eat the cookies?”

shame creeps up his neck and makes his skin prickle uncomfortably. grasping for a response, eijirou decides to question you right back. “why’d you have sex cookies in the fridge?”

“they were a surprise for valentine’s!”

oh.

now he really feels dumb for spoiling your plans. perhaps if he hadn’t been so hungry, so greedy, he wouldn’t be embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

but the feeling doesn’t last long—your tough face drops into something more sultry: doe eyes and an upturned quirk of your lips that’s sure to finish him.

the mattress sinks under your weight, and you scoot beside him with a self satisfied smile. it’s small and quiet, but a voice in the back of his head tells him maybe you wanted this to happen; you certainly don’t look too upset about it.

“no way, baby,” a hiss escapes him when you slap his cum-stained hand away from his cock, instead choosing to replace them with your own. “am i dreaming? mrs. red riot, are you—”

his narration throws you off, and you choke just kissing his tip. you know eijirou’s surprised and eternally grateful, but damn. “mr. red riot, you’d be quiet if you wanted me to.”

“sorry,” he says earnestly, tensing up to hide the fact that he’s shaking like a leaf when you finally take him in your mouth. “i’ve just—” he inhales sharply as you slowly, torturously take him inch by inch. “i’ve been waiting s-so long for you to come home, babe.”

you swallow, throat squeezing tight around his cock, and eijirou’s clean hand flies to the back of your head, hovering precariously. “i’m crazy about you, all day every day, and the cookies made it worse. ‘m sorry for spoiling the surprise, i didn’t mean to—haa, w-what’re you doing to me? oh, you’re gonna make me—”

it doesn’t take long for obscene slurps and occasional gags to fill the room as you suck eijirou’s cock, spoiling him with each languid bob of your head. it’s too much, and the tension grows thicker in his gut, setting his insides ablaze with anticipation.

he’s hurtling toward his high, jerking his hips up and shamelessly preparing to fill up your throat this quickly—but then, you push yourself off of him. a shudder ripples through his body, and he throws you a pained, wide eyed look.

“why’d you..? baby?”

you motion for him to lay on his back, and he can see the gears in your head turning behind a wicked smile. “might as well draw it out, hm?”

“you’re gonna milk me?”

he’s so cute . .

you want to see him crying.

you hum, “only until you’re begging for me to stop.”

KAMINARI DENKI, ft. SERO HANTA

⟡ an undercover sting at a mysterious village with your work partners doesn’t go as smoothly as planned. the village, out in the far country, has been reported as the one place with the highest levels of quirk activity in japan. little did you know about the fact that this place is home to infectious pollen that makes its way into people via the air, or about its temporary effects on people . .

“what the fuck,” you moan, vision blurry between their faces and intermittent flashes of light. “there’s no way it’s from a plant, it can’t be—”

hanta’s tongue darts out to lick the salt away from his upper lip, and he points a finger toward a passage in the encyclopedia. “the symptoms are, ngh, the same.”

one of your hands works denki’s cock while the other shakily flips through an encyclopedia of germs and the like; hanta’s buried to the hilt inside of you, tan cheeks flushed with exertion.

“can’t you just read after?” denki unhelpfully suggests, blinking back a few tears while sparks of electricity fly off from his blond hair. “let’s just fix—yeah, baby, jus’ like that—fix the problem now and figure it out later.”

“shut it, denks,” hanta rolls his eyes, rocking his hips into you. despite the fact that the three of you are totally naked and in the middle of some kind of threesome, you’re researching what apparently caused this surge of uncontrollable arousal.

things began not long after you arrived in the village, where everything had looked unsuspecting and normal. surely there was a villain lurking around somewhere . . ? why else would there be so much unusual activity, enough to alert the authorities?

“look, they f-found something similar in america,” hanta’s voice wavers uncharacteristically, his own high racing through him with such intensity he doubles over.

“forget about the book,” denki’s begging while pressing dazed kisses to your tits, one hand tossing the book aside and slipping between your trembling thighs. “c’mon, babe. show us what you look like when you cum.”

perhaps this is something to be selfish about — when will an opportunity to fuck your hot coworkers come around again? hanta’s everything you’ve been daydreaming about, with a muscular physique sharp enough to have been cut from stone. denki’s just as attractive, though his features are softer, the result of his constant snacking while on the job or in the agency.

hanta nods in assent, already trailing over the edge. “want you to gush all over me, baby.”

thrashing under denki’s fingers, it momentarily occurs to you that maybe they’re a little too experienced. neither of them were concerned with a threesome when it was suggested, and there’s no mistakes in their almost synchronized movements.

just watching your eyes flutter and roll back is enough to make denki cum with a moan of your name as his cock sprays white. hanta’s pupils probably dilate a hundred times their size at the erotic sight, and his hips begin to stutter as heat races up his spine.

denki, shaking profusely, musters his voice and maintains his hurried pace. “g-good girl, go on ‘n let it out.”

since stepping foot into the village and inhaling that damn pollen, the pro hero’s been getting realistic flashes of thoughts he’s kept locked away for some time. you, on your knees, looking up at him like you’re ready to do more than just please. you, with your pretty eyes full of tears as you lose your mind beneath him.

an orgasm stronger than the lustful effects of any aphrodisiac tears through you, and your cunt bears down so hard it forces out hanta’s own high as well. with all his might, he tries to resist the surge of weakness that hits him and fails—he collapses on top of you, hugging you closely and burying his face in your neck.

loosely, your jaw hangs open and breathy gasps leave your mouth. denki’s sparking with electricity beside you and simultaneously struggling to get it under control. a single yellow spark flies off his body and mildly electrocutes hanta, snapping him back to reality. he jerks against you, sounding exhausted.

“uh. so, um, what’re we supposed to report when we get back?”

TAKAMI KEIGO.

⟡ bless his heart. for valentine’s, he decides to be a silk heart-shaped box of japan’s most expensive chocolate for you. he’d been so focused on finding your favorite flavors along with new ones that he didn’t even realize that he’d purchased sex chocolate.

“it hurts, dovey. it’s s-so painful.”

since sharing the box of chocolates with you, keigo’s been reduced to a pathetic mess who can’t seem to stop shaking when you just barely touch him. vermilion feathers puff up and out at his back, his messy wings conveying the way he’s crumbling inside.

you’re just as hot, skin crawling with a lustful itch only keigo can scratch for you. the frenetic beating of his wings whips up cold gusts of wind stronger than any ceiling fan, and not a single goosebump rises on your skin.

“right there, kei,” you moan, tears gathering in your eyes as he continuously hits your sweet spot. “oh my god, don’t stop.”

as if he’d ever plan to.

he hiccups, face flushed and hair tousled like he’s just returned from some mission out in the wild. softly, with the barest note of urgency, keigo whines out your name and a request.

“dovey, c’mon,” his voice cracks halfway through his sentence, shattered with unmistakable pleasure. “just tell me what you want, and i’ll, ah, i’ll fuckin’ give it to you.”

keigo’s entire body thrums with the need, the purpose, to please you, and his own pleasure hinges on you and your praise. sure enough, you cry out to him, words saccharine and addicting.

“make me cum, kei,” and he doesn’t need any further instruction, not when he knows your body this well. smooth fingers slip between your thighs and work your clit, causing your back to arch when he applies just enough pressure to send electricity through your nerves.

you’re wrapping around keigo’s waist, drawing him in and breaking down his self control easily.

“want me to fill up this pussy, baby? i can do it again and again—” he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts that amplify the clap of skin against skin almost as much as a quirk could, “while you take it like you were made to.”

quaking beneath him, you nod frantically, as if those are the words you’ve been waiting to hear. while he was so vividly illustrating the scene, his wings unconsciously began to wrap around your bodies, a sign of how much he wants it too.

you gasp, eyes squeezing shut with the last image being keigo’s face, twisted in ecstasy and scrunched with concentration. “gonna—‘m gonna cum, kei!”

“with me, dovey, please,” sweat pours down the sides of his face as the heated bliss tightens in his gut, applying an unbearable pressure to his cock. “let me feel you cum around me, ughhh.”

sloppily, keigo presses open mouthed kisses to your lips, and a delighted moan escapes him when you kiss back. your lips are soft against his, and your tongue carries the sweet taste of valentine’s chocolates, the expensive ones he’d come home with earlier.

with his orgasm creeping up on him and dulling his surroundings, a brief thought occurs to him about those chocolates. the sales lady had raised a brow when he filled up the customizable box with many pink chocolates that had been sitting in a case separate from the rest.. no, that can’t be right. surely this is the common valentine’s day effect on couples—it can’t be from the chocolate, can it?

[merakidoll]

best friend dad könig had you bent like a pretzel in the passenger seat of a very expensive car. your toes touched the cool window, while your dress was bunched up leaving you out in the open. your knees touched your shoulders, and your nails dug into the leather. “now it’s coming back to you” his rough voice said slapping your pussy then thumbing his way between your folds. köngi drove widely on the empty highway. his sports car sweerving throughout the lanes as he rushed to get back to his home. “you get around my daughter and forget sweet pea” biting your lip, you withheld your moan.

his thick fingers entering you fucking you roughly. könig finally looked to were you sat and smirked at you. “say sorry” he moved his eyes to the road then back to you quickly, scissoring his fingers into your cunt and groaning at the how wet you were. “m-m’sorryyyy” your hole clenched around him, clit throbbing and köngi knew what would follow moment after, so he took his fingers out of you and went back to tumbing over your clit teasingly.

“had plans to spoil my pretty girl tonight. kiss her, eat her pretty pussy, all because we had the house to ourselves and you’ve been so fuckin good for daddy. but of course you fuck. that. up” with each word he delivered a slap to your pussy, basking in your whimpers and murmurs of sorry. “ghost telling me that you were at a club sweetheart? that’s not what i expected as i cooked dinner waiting for you”as he spoke, eyes focused on the road, he slowly pushed two fingers back into you moving them slowly, just feeling your gussy walls wrap around his digits. “then you wear this baby? looking so pretty - but for who?” turning to you he sped up a little, watching you be seconds away from breaking.

your body shook, slob pooling for the side of you mouth and your eyes felt heavy. you tummy was tense, the feeling of your orgasm so close. “who?” he said again, sterner and louder making you jump and squeal clenching down. “YOU!” you cried as you no longer withheld it. squirt came out of you, as you still cried saying sorry. köngi chuckled evilly taking his fingers out and slapping your wet soppy cunt, knowing it would overstimulate you; to which it did.

all you could do was shake and cry. incoherent words failing to making sense to the mean man who had a smile on his face as he continued to play with your puffy tired pussy, all the way home.

[fairy-angel222]

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

His tie loosened from the fancy date you two were just on, first few buttons undone with his grip hard on the staring wheel. Veins prominent from the rolled up sleeves of his shirt.

His eyes don’t leave the road when you begin to whimper and whine. Leaned back against the passenger seat as his hand traces up your thigh and your dress, pads of his fingers toying with your clit through the thin fabric of your panties.

You moaned softly, your own smaller hands reaching out to grab his wrist tightly when he skillfully slipped your panties to the side. Thick fingers dancing along your wet slit before settling on the tiny bud.

“Kento...”

Your back arched when he began rubbing small circles, your thighs twitching in need as your little noises of pleasure filled the dark vehicle. Your body jolting with each touch to the sensitive set of nerves.

Nanami only smiled to himself, barely sparing you a glance as he maneuvered each turn back to his home. “Hmm, yes darling?” The pace of his fingers only speeding up as your gasps and mewls increased in volume. Grinding your hips onto his hand when your head fell back against the seat.

“Nngh.. Kento,” You moaned, lips parting in soft pants. “Need.. n-need them inside.”

Nanami’s smile grew into a smirk. “Oh? Is my girl so greedy that she won’t take what i give her?” He teased, chuckling when you pushed his hand further down with a sound of agreement. “You want them inside you darling? Tell me how badly.”

“Really bad, want them in me really bad.”

He hummed, fingers trailing down further just as the car swerved to the right. Nanami taking the chance to slip two fingers into you with ease.

Your grip on his wrist tightened, letting out a string of short cries when he began fucking them into you. Curling them up sweetly into your g spot as you mewled his name loudly. Small tears welling in your eyes as your body trembled. Having already been so close to a prior orgasm.

“F-fuckk. Kento baby— ahh.” You couldn’t control the noises that slipped past your lips, eyes rolling back with ragged breaths as Nanami pressed into all the right places to drive you crazy. His thumb extending upwards to play with your still aching clit.

“You like that sweetheart?” Nanami cooed, shifting slightly in his seat as his cock strained in his pants. His fingers being put on auto mode as he focused on getting you home safely.

He knew your body like the back of his hand, pleasuring you came like second nature.

Especially with the way your glassy eyes rolled back beside him, crying out his name with a shaky moan as you were pushed closer and closer to the edge. “O-oh god.. ‘m gonna cum.” You breathed, toes curling as your body’s sensitivity went up by a tenfold. Nanami’s every touch scorching your skin as you waited for his command.

“Go on sweetheart, cum for me.”

You crumbled.

Body shaking lightly as you messily coated his fingers in your slick. An assortment of sweet sounds bubbling in your throat as your pussy spasmed. Drenching him and his seat when you squirted with a cry.

“Good girl.”

You shivered when his fingers slipped out of you. Your eyes peeling open to see him pulling up into his driveway. Putting the car in park before he finally turned to you, pressing his lips to yours with a groan.

“How about you do that on my tongue next?”

[shawtuzi]

JJK MEN AS: my favorite sexy songs hehe

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ pairing: suguru x reader, satoru x reader, toji x reader, nanami x reader, sukuna x reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: [suguru] possessive!sugu, he’s kinda mean :((, kinda public sex?? they fuck in a bathroom idk man, unprotected sex, rough sex, he gags her w her panties, spanking, some choking, creampie bc DUH, [satoru] pathetic!toru, he’s so down bad but so sweet, oral f!receiving, gojo cums in his pants while eating her out, unprotected sex, backshots, choking, [toji] drug usage (weed) oral m!receiving, needy!reader, throat fucking, he’s kinda rough, riding, biting, and you guessed it…a creampie!!, [nanami] shibari, use of a vibrator, oral m!receiving, unprotected sex, prone bone position, creampie, baby makin’ sex, [sukuna] i made him nice in this, public sex (nobody can see them), sex on top of a car, unprotected sex, semi rough sex, he pulls out!! shockingly, oral f!receiving, choking, squirting anddddd i think that it about it!!!! wc: 6.5k

a/n: i do NOT condone all the unprotected sex in this!!! yall better be safe 🫵🏽/// mdni boarder credit: @cafekitsune

SUGURU GETO: haunted- beyoncé

‘my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets. i know if i’m haunting you, you must haunting me.’

“s-sugu,” you mewled against the man’s lips, hissing when you felt his hands tug roughly at your hair. suguru brought his hand to your face, pushing on your chin with his thumb to part your lips even more. once he had enough access he wasted no time shoving his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the sweet yet bitter taste of the wine you’d previously been drinking.

he just couldn’t get enough of you.

you and suguru had coincidentally ended up at the same hotel bar, the two of you engaging in a silent battle of who would talk to the other first. it wasn’t until you got up to use the restroom that sugu threw all caution into the wind and followed you, quick to push you against the nearest stall.

“missed you baby, couldn’t stop thinking about you for days,” he growled, bunching up the material of your dress to the tops of your thighs. “how’d you know i’d be here? i w-was waiting on someone,” your lips had the cutest pout, your brows furrowing as you finally got a good look at him.

his pupils were the size of saucers, holding nothing but desire and want for no one else but you.

suguru chuckled, his head tilting back as he laughed. “your little boy toy? i wouldn’t worry about him,” he hummed, cradling your face in his large hands. suguru shoved his ring and middle finger in your mouth, humming in content when you swirled your tongue around the digits. your breath hitched when you felt those same fingers press against your clit, the dull throb from it had suguru’s pants feeling extra tight.

“w-what’d you do to him suguruuu,” you whined, hands reaching out for his broad shoulders to steady yourself. geto didn’t answer, simply done talking about the irrelevant man.

without warning suguru flipped your body, pressing your front against the stall door. his hands gripped onto your hips, traveling up to your breasts to give them a squeeze. “i don’t want to talk about another man, not when i’m about to fuck you stupid,” you heard the clank! of his belt being undone, your heart skipping a beat when you heard his zipper next.

“y-you have no right to interfere with my da—hates!” you felt like the air had been punched from your lungs when he slipped inside your pussy in one go, his teeth biting onto your shoulder to hide his groans. suguru didn’t move an inch, wanting you to feel how much he missed you with each throb of his dick against your squishy walls. his once perfectly styled bun was now almost completely disheveled, his baby hairs tickling the side of your face.

“you feel me honey? feel how much i love n’ miss you?” his voice sounded breathless, boarder line drunk. suguru grinned when he felt the plushness of your ass grind against his front. he’ll take that as a yes.

suguru pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in before slamming back inside of you, his hand slapping against your mouth to cover your squeals n moans. “you really fuckin’ piss me off you know that?” his free hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“you give me the best sex of my life, make me feel like i’m on cloud nine every time i’m with you n’ then you leave me? fuck that,” his forehead fell against your shoulder, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

your eyes fluttered shut when you felt him hit that special spot deep inside you, fat tears welling up in your eyes. you wanted to push him off, tell him to fuck off and leave you alone for good—but the thing about that is you really really didn’t want to. as much as he was an overly possessive asshole no one, and i mean no one could ever fuck you like he could. he had your bodies likes and dislikes down to a tee the first time he ever slept with you and it only got better from there <//3

you heard a small tear, your eyes widening when you suddenly felt more exposed. suguru removed his hand from your mouth, but before you could even get a sound out you felt the soft material of your panties being shoved in your mouth.

“you’re so cute,” suguru pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your face before gripping onto your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts. your hands pressed against the stall for balance, nearly on your tippy toes in attempt to escape his brutal pace. suguru was absolutely mesmerized by the way your ass clapped against his pelvis, a shiny, white sheen of your essence coating his dick.

suguru’s thrusts stopped when he felt your hand tap urgently against his toned stomach. he swiftly pulled out and turned you around, concern swirling in his eyes. “you okay sweetness?” he asked, removing your panties from your mouth, his thumb wiping off the drool on your chin. you bit your kiss swollen lip, nodding.

“i just…wanted to see your face when you finish in me,” your cheeks felt blazing hot as you looked down bashfully. suguru’s nostrils flared, his chest heaving. you were absolutely gonna be the death of this man.

“jump.”

you made quick work to jump in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. he slipped in with ease, the both of you moaning in unison. suguru’s strokes were slow, yet so so deep you swore you felt him in your tummy. “s’good sugu,” your hands were quick to take out the elastic holding his hair up, your fingers combing through the soft locs.

“i know baby, i know. ‘missed you so much, did you miss me?” you wanted to say no, deny him the satisfaction of hearing you say you indeed did miss him but fuck it! you really did miss your sugu.

a particular harsh thrust broke you out of your thoughts, making you gasp violently. “y-yes i did! i missed you so m-much sugu,” you pulled him close by his hair, giving him a bruising kiss. suguru moaned loudly into the kiss, his hips stuttering as he finally began to finish inside of you. his fingers were quick to rub at your clit, his eyes rolling back when you squeezed tightly around him.

your thighs trembled as suguru fucked you through your orgasm, the loud squelching of your pussy echoing throughout the bathroom. “good fuckin’ pussy,” suguru grunted in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of it.

suguru set you down carefully, chuckling to himself when you grabbed onto him for dear life to steady yourself. “you’re such an asshole,” you muttered, picking your ripped, discarded panties up off the floor. he gave you a toothy grin, plucking the garment from your hands and shoving it into his pocket. “mm i know i am, now let’s get outta here your date gave me the keys to the room he booked for the two of you.”

as he ushered you out of the bathroom you looked up at him, your brows furrowing in confusion, “are you gonna tell me how the fuck you found out about him? this date?” suguru chuckled, his hand wrapping around your waist—

“don’t worry about that gorgeous.”

SATORU GOJO: the way- kehlani ft chance the rapper

‘all i do, is stay up all night losin’ sleep over you. all i do, is drive myself crazy thinkin’ bout my baby.’

“i miss herrrr!”

“toru please shut up and focus on the game.”

“but i miss herrr,” satoru’s head fell against his keyboard with a thud! making geto sigh in defeat.

“why don’t you just call her th—”

“i have been! she won’t answer!” satoru felt tears well up in his eyes as he stared at his texts with you. all he saw was blue bubbles from himself, along with ‘read’ at the bottom. he swiped over to the photos app, sighing sadly at his album of pictures dedicated to you.

why oh why were you so precious?

he clicked on a video he took of you while you were crocheting, sniffling at how cute you looked so concentrated on the hat you were making. he swiped to the next; a video of you sitting on top of his stomach, blunt between your fingers as you sang along to whatever song was playing.

“i feel like i’m gonna throw up sugu, i miss her so much,” he continued to swipe through the folder, a whine bubbling in his throat at a certain video. you were out at a club together and while you were grinding in his lap satoru whipped out his phone, flash on and everything, capturing the entire thing. you looked so pretty in that dress. you looked even prettier with it pushed up to your waist while he fucked you from the back.

satoru was broken out of his thoughts when geto spoke up, “just go over there man. the worst she can do is mace you, or like, call the cops.” gojo huffed, his lips puffing up into a pout.

“you’re right m’gonna go talk to her.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“go away!”

you winced when you felt gojo’s body fall against your door, a sound of defeat leaving his lips. “please pretty baby m’so sorry, you know i am!” satoru clutched the flowers in his hand, hot tears brimming his eyes. you huffed, pressing your back against the door. be strong. be strong.

“you missed our date, that’s one date too many! you didn’t even call to let me know! i got all pretty for nothing,” your brows furrowed, a fresh wave of anger running over you. “all to be at home on your ass watching baddies, without me might i add!”

“i’m sorryyyy! i really am just let me in!” his shoulders slumped when he heard you yell back ‘no!’, the pout on his lips deepening.

“y/n…i’m so sorry i forgot about our date i promise it won’t ever happen again. won’t ever let you waste a look on me again i swear. it’s been almost a week and—and i can’t sleep, i can’t eat, i c-can’t even play on my pc!”

he’ll admit he probably sounded like the biggest drama queen but these were desperate times! he’s never met a girl that took such good care of his heart the way you did. the way you let him feel every ounce of love and care you had for him with a single touch. my mans down bad mmkay?!

“baby? you still there?”

your hand was already on the door knob before he even finished his sentence, you just wanted to hear him grovel a bit. “yeah m’here,” you muttered, getting on your tippy toes to look at him through the peephole.

“is that food i see?” you mumbled, eyeing the bag in his hands. gojo nodded eagerly, holding the bag up. “spicy ramen with two things of vegetable tempura from your favorite place,” his lips quirked up into a small smile, you could never say no to your favorite ramen.

he heard some shuffling on the other side of the door before you opened it. he could’ve ate you up the way you looked so cute in your fluffy robe….oh wait—

“satoruuuu,” you head fell back against your pillow, thighs shaking against the snow haired man’s head. gojo moaned against your pussy, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he slobbered all over your clit. his large hands wandered from your thighs, to your tummy, to your exposed breasts.

“missed you so much sweetness,” he whispered to your pussy, giving your thigh a sloppy kiss. his hooded, icy blue eyes flit to yours, “missed you even more pretty baby.” before you could say anything back his lips were back on your clit, caressing it gently with the tip of his tongue. his hips ground into your bed, only adding to how overstimulated he was.

“m’gonna cum toru,” you mewled, fighting to keep your thighs open. gojo pulled you closer to his face by your hips, “me too baby, cum on my face.” you had no idea what that meant at the moment but regardless you did as he said, giving him your third orgasm of the night. satoru let out a pornographic moan against your pussy as his own orgasm hit him like a truck, his hips stuttering against the beg as he drank up your essence.

gojo laid his head on your trembling thigh, nipping the twitching skin. despite cumming in his pants he was still hard, painfully hard actually. with shaky hands satoru pushed himself up, his hands running over the silkiness of your thighs. you gasped when you suddenly felt his lips against yours, your cum smearing from his chin onto yours. one thing about satoru gojo; he was the king of sloppy kisses.

“you ready for me beautiful?” he moaned against your lips, his hips now grinding into yours. you nodded and gojo wasted no time ditching his clothes, making quick work to rid you of your robe. you turned your back to him, arching into the bed, giving him a view of your glistening pussy. gojo gave his dick a few strokes before pushing it between your folds, fat, sticky tip nudging against your clit.

“you’re a fucking dream,” satoru slurred, finally slipping into your pussy. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth dropping open at the delicious stretch of him. once he was all the way in, he leant forward a tiny bit, his pelvis smushing against your ass. “t-too deep toru! too de—deep,” you whined, your hand coming back to slap at his stomach.

gojo chuckled, moving back to his original stance, “just wanted you to feel me wayyy in there.” and with that he was locked in—leg propped up on the bed to give you the meanest strokes known to man. your nails clawed at your sheets, pussy gripping onto satoru’s dick like a vice.

“so fuckin’ wet pretty baby,” gojo moaned, teeth clamping onto his kiss swollen lip. how stupid could he have been to almost lose something so so good? satoru wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you roughly against his chest. you turned your head, immediately catching his lips in a heated kiss. his free hand cupped your breast, tweaking at your nipple, making you whine into his mouth.

“missed you so much gorgeous.”

“missed you more toru♡”

TOJI FUSHIGURO: james joint- rihanna

‘i’d rather be breaking things cause we can’t see, we’re too busy kissing.’

“you’re so good at that toji.”

you watched him with hearts practically in your eyes as he sealed up the blunt for the two of you. toji chuckled, leaning down to give your cheek a sweet kiss. “thank you baby, hand me that lighter would ya?” you were quick to reach for the lighter next to you, giving him a dreamy smile as you handed it to him. you weren’t high on weed yet, but you were definitely high on your man.

“alright s’all done, let’s get comfy. it’s your turn to pick a movie gorgeous,” toji laid on his side of the bed, head propped up with one of your squishmallows. you laid on his chest, remote in hand as you looked for a movie. you picked ‘texas chainsaw massacre’ because it was his favorite of course. toji gave the crown of your head a kiss before lighting the blunt, his hand finding purchase on your waist.

as the movie went on you became more high and restless. before you knew it you were running your fingers over the ridges of his abs over his shirt, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. toji was too immersed in the movie to notice your hand was now underneath his shirt, running across his chest and abdomen.

suddenly he felt a tug on the waistband of his sweats. “what’re you doin’ down there,” he chuckled, giving your hip a loving squeeze. you let out a long sigh, sitting up, moving to sit on his stomach. “you just look sooo good toji,” you gave him a dopey smile, running your hands over his pecs. you pressed your forehead against his, “especially when i’m on top of you like this…so handsome.”

toji ran his tongue over his bottom lip, tilting his chin up to let you know he wanted a kiss. you happily obliged pressing your soft lips against his, your hands now cradling his face. you nibbled at toji’s bottom lip, wasting no time to slip your tongue in his mouth once his lips parted. “mm you keep kissin’ me like that n’ we’re not gonna be able to finish the movie,” he mumbled against your lips, grabbing a handful of your ass over your pj shorts.

“fine by me,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. after a few minutes of kissing you began kissing your way down his jaw to his neck, kissing and sucking on the skin. toji groaned, bucking his hips up into you. you pushed his shirt up, now kissing down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his sweats. “can i? please?” you gave him your best doe eyes, already tugging at the elastic.

“could never say no to you, pull it out for me pretty girl,” toji chuckled, running his thumb over your bottom lip, a groan bubbling in his throat when you started to suck it. you always loved giving toji head when he was high. he a little looser when it came to being rough with you, he didn’t try to hold himself back as much.

that’s how he ended up fucking your throat, head tossed against your plushies while he used you. your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging into his thighs as he fucked your throat damn near raw. you gasped wetly when he pulled his dick out of your mouth, smacking the muscle against your lips. “you take my shit so good, i oughta be rougher with you more often,” toji gave you a lazy smirk, tracing his tip over your pouting lips.

“you should…i like it,” you couldn’t help but look anywhere but his eyes as you said it, your cheeks heating up. “you’re so cute,” toji grinned, pushing down on your chin to open your mouth wider. he slowly pushed his dick in your mouth, groaning when he felt the tip of your tongue lick against the underside. you gagged rather hard when he pushed your head all the way down, your nose bumping into his pelvis. tears began to well up in your eyes and you just looked so cute, he couldn’t help wanna take a picture of you.

“look at me,” toji grunted, tugging at your hair. you blinked slowly, looking at him through your lashes. he was holding his phone up, teeth digging into his bottom lip. he warned you of the flash before taking a picture, dick jumping in your throat at just how gorgeous you looked with a mouthful of his dick. your eyes were red n glossy, practically eye fucking the camera.

you pulled off of toji’s dick with a pop! wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before speaking, “lemme ride you.” toji tossed his phone with quickness, his hands already tugging at the waistband of your shorts. you pulled off your shorts, knees settling beside toji’s hips, your dripping pussy hovering over his leaking tip. you slipped his dick in with ease, your pussy hugging his base as you slid down till your ass was snug against his thighs.

toji let out a deep sigh, rough hands settling on your waist. “every time i’m inside it’s like the first time, squeezin’ me so tight baby goddamn,” you whimpered at toji’s words, your hands pushing on his pecs for support to help you ride him. toji grabbed a handful of your ass, eyes flitting to the wet mess between the two of you. each time you slammed back down a squelching sound followed, your wetness dripping onto his thighs and the bed.

“you look so—fuck, so pretty, baby, can’t believe you’re real,” toji chuckled breathlessly, hissing when reached a hand behind you to play with his balls. all you could do was give him a weak smile, your free hand yanking up your shirt to give him a nice lil view of your tits. toji wasted no time cupping your breasts in his hands, fingers tugging at your nipples.

“hah! m’gonna cum toji,” your thighs trembled as you tried to ride him as best as you could, but the way his tip hit that spongy spot deep inside you wasn’t making it easy at all. toji brought one of his hands down to rub at your clit, thumb drawing vicious circles into your sensitive nub. you came with a squeal, body falling limp against toji’s as you rode your high out by grinding into him.

toji couldn’t a get word out before you were smushing your lips against his, whining about how you were ready to go again. “you sure baby? maybe you should take a little breather yeah?” toji ran his hand up and down your back, grinning when you began to protest. “mm well that’s fine but—” he planted his feet into the bed, lips brushing against your ear, “i’m not gonna be easy on you.”

that was more than fine with you.

toji grabbed your ass with both hands before fucking up into you, groaning into your ear when he felt you tug at his hair. you pressed your lips into his once more, toji drinking up each moan that slipped past your pretty lips. “that feel good baby? hm? talk to me, i wanna hear you,” he sucked on your bottom lip, nibbling on the plushy skin. you whined against his lips, the smell of his aftershave making you dizzy.

“feels s’good toji, y-you’re always so good to—s-shit! to me, so so good thank you thank you thank you,” you were babbling at this point, tears brimming in your eyes from overstimulation. it hurt so good you just couldn’t tell him to stop, let alone to slow down. toji hissed when felt your teeth dig into his shoulder, his pace faltering ever so slightly.

“s-shit do that again, you’re gonna make me cum baby, gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard,” he growled into your ear, giving your ass two harsh smacks. you did as you were told, biting into the same spot on his shoulder, your tongue lolling out of your mouth to caress the mark. toji’s hips pushing into yours one last time, his arms squeezing around you impossibly tight as he emptied himself inside of you.

his orgasm triggered your own, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream as you creamed his dick. “f-fuck stop squeezing me babe it hurts,” toji let out a breathless laugh, giving your hip a rough squeeze. you shook your head, your nose nuzzling into his neck. “i can’t help it, it feels like im still cumming, like i gotta pee.” toji’s eyebrows raised in surprise, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“oh really?”

“yeah….why are you smiling?”

KENTO NANAMI: god is fair, sexy nasty-mac miller ft kendrick lamar

‘don’t you know your body been mine? i know you know i know.’

“honey, can i take this blindfold off yet?” kento chuckled, his back flopping against the mattress. it was your guys’ four year anniversary of being married and he had a pretty good idea of what you had planned for the rest of the night.

suddenly he felt a pair of warm hands on the tops of his thighs. “you can take it off now,” he heard you giggle, the warmth of your hands now gone. nanami sat up slowly, removing the blindfold with eagerness. he put his glasses on, his mouth dropping slightly once his eyes readjusted to the light.

you were on your knees wearing a pretty baby pink set of lingerie, there were ropes placed on either side of you. “i was thinking we could try that thing you brought up to me a while ago. i was a little nervous at first but m’ready now, i know you’ve been practicing,” you giggled at the last part, heat rising to nanami’s cheeks. it was true, he had been practicing shibari on himself just in case you showed interest. he’d also been doing extensive research—which usually led to him fisting his dick at the thought of you tied up all pretty like that.

kento got on his knees with you, his shaky hands reaching out to pull you close. “you really wanna do this? you don’t have to just because i want to,” he spoke softly, nudging his nose against yours lovingly. you hummed, bringing your hands up to scratch at his nape, “i promise i do. i think it’ll be really, um, hot being tied up like that,” you gave him a small smile, pressing your lips against his.

nanami had read that for your first time doing shibari with your partner it’s always best to bind them in your favorite sex position—hence why he has your on your tummy. it took some time and a lot of patience but he eventually had your arms tied behind your back in pretty knots, checking every couple of minutes to make sure it wasn’t too tight.

“how does that feel?” he asked, gently tugging at the ropes. you tried moving your arms and wrists but they weren’t budging—he really had been doing his research. “feels okay…not tight but, like, secure. keep going,” you gave him a smile of encouragement, resting your head against the mattress once more. nanami gave your cheek a sweet kiss, then another one on your shoulder, and then another one in the center of your back.

“m’gonna do your legs now, i’m gonna connect those ropes to the ones on your arms okay?” he ran his hand over your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “okay ken,” you gave him a verbal answer to put him more at ease and it seemed to work, his body visibly becoming less tense as he looped the ropes around your shins.

kento sat back on his knees, admiring his work with hearts in his eyes. you looked like an angel all tied up for him. “how does it feel pretty girl?” he spoke softly, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“it feels good ken, can you touch me? please?” kento gave your cheek a kiss before getting up, rummaging through his bedside drawer to find the wand he used on you from time to time. “is it okay if i use this?” he asked, holding the wand in front of you, smiling when you nodded. he switched the wand on to the lowest setting, propping it between your thighs to sit directly on your clit.

your breath hitched, eyes fluttering when you felt him push the wand harder into your clit. “is that good baby?” nanami cooed, tracing hearts along your back. you preened into his touch, your nails digging into your palm,” yes ken, ‘feels really good.” you peeped the bulge in his dress pants, your chest feeling heavy at the thought of having him in your mouth. “kenny?” you whispered, gasping when you felt the wand being yanked from between your legs.

nanami was crouching by the bed, concern clouding his vision. were you hurt? were you starting to not like it?

you noticed his concerned stare, immediately reassuring him, “i’m good! i’m okay, i promise! i just, um, well—”

“what can i do for you darling?” his tone was tender as he spoke, thumb caressing your jaw. “well…i just wanna suck you off…” your voice was tiny as you spoke. after all these years of being together, being intimate with each other, he still made you so bashful.

nanami let out a noise of relief, giving your cheek a soft pat. “geez honey, you scared me half to death i thought you were were hurt!” after a sharing a moment of laughter together nanami placed the wand between your legs once more. “if you need me to stop, kick your legs against the bed three times ‘kay? i made the knots on your legs looser just case. don’t want you getting hurt at all right honey?” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your forehead when you nodded.

after turning up the setting on the wand he slowly began to undo his belt, giving you a warm smile as he did so. your mouth started to water when he pulled his dick out, tip leaking and begging for attention.

he didn’t have to say a word because you already knew what to do, your tongue sticking out waiting to please him. nanami let out a deep exhale through his nose when you kitten licked at his dick. he was about to remove his glasses when you suddenly let out a noise of disapproval. “keep them on please…you look so handsome with them on”, your voice was small as you spoke, your wrists struggling ever so lightly against the ropes. kento grinned, grabbing a nearby pillow to place it under your head for comfort, “of course honey, ‘can have whatever you want.”

kento fucked your mouth slowly, relishing in tiny mewls you would let out. your panties were a mess by now, the soft cotton material sticking to your folds. “look at you humping the bed, you’re so cute,” kento smirked down at you, running his thumb over the bulge in your cheek. you hummed around his dick, your hips circling to get more stimulation from the wand. he pushed his hips forward, groaning deeply when he felt your throat constrict around his tip.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled out of your mouth, your brows scrunching together bc why did he do that??

“as much as i love this and you for doing it for me i need to fuck you properly.” he carefully, but swiftly began to undo the knots, kissing your wrists and ankles as he did so. nanami grunted when you jumped into his arms, your lips littering his neck and throat with sloppy kisses. nanami squeezed your hips roughly, not being able to contain himself from peppering your shoulder with kisses. “be rough tonight, i can handle it ken,” you whispered in his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

that’s how you ended up on your tummy, head tucked between nanami’s arm and bicep while he fucked you rather roughly. sure, it was a challenge keeping his glasses on like this but it was all worth it to please his wife.

“k-ken why’re you fucking me like that,” you sobbed into the sheets, your legs crossing over themselves in attempt to slow him down. keyword attempt because the second you did that his knee forced your legs right back open. “aren’t you the one who asked for it rough honey? cmon use your words you can do it,” he rasped next to your ear, using his free hand to shove two fingers between your drooling lips.

kento grinned when you whined out an oh so cute ‘i don’t knowww’ over his fingers, your hot tears dripping onto his arm. “that’s right baby don’t think, just lemme think for you,” he gave you a particularly harsh thrust, triggering your long awaiting orgasm. he hissed when you bit down on his fingers, his hips pushing into your ass one last time as he finished inside you.

nanami released his grip, rolling you onto your side before pulling you into him. “that’s was good,” he hummed, caressing your back. you ran a shaky hand down his chest, stopping just above his dick. “lets go again, i have a feeling this one took but you can never be too sure with baby making right?” you nudged your nose against his, your hand now stroking his semi. nanami cupped the back of your neck in his hand, pressing your lips together—

“you’re absolutely right darling.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA: talk 2 u- brent faiyaz

‘if you don’t mind i wanna be the only one on your mind.’

“fuckkk y/n,” sukuna growled in your ear, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. your mouth dropped open, hand slamming down on the hood of sukuna’s car as he fucked you like a madman. you felt sooo much better than he could’ve imagined, pussy gripping onto him so tightly as if you just wanted to keep him there.

he had pursued you a few weeks prior, spitting out more game than you could handle which is how he eventually got you like this. he was just such a smooth talker. you weren’t able to contain yourself by the end of your third date, asking, no pleading with him to take you on top of his car.

“so big ‘kuna,” you whined into his ear, drool slipping from your lips and onto your exposed chest. sukuna pushed you down softly, throwing your legs over his shoulders before pounding into you once more. his teeth nibbled at his bottom lip, his eyes solely focused on the way your breasts bounced with each thrust.

“so pretty,” he rasped out, pressing a kiss to your ankle. as he littered your ankle and shin with kisses he eyes flit to your face, pupils dilating when he saw your fucked out expression. “i-i’m cumming ‘kuna, i’m—” your body tensed as you came with a loud moan. sukuna was only adding to the stimulation, now using his fat tip to tap against your clit.

he didn’t even give you a breather before he was pushing back inside, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. “such a good pussy baby, she’s so wet f’me,” sukuna leant down, capturing your nipple in his hot mouth. you scratched at his nape lovingly, your legs tightening around his waist. sukuna moved onto your other breast, his hand cupping the one he abandoned. he kissed, licked, n sucked all over your breasts until you were writhing in sensitivity, giving his hair a rough tug to yank him off.

sukuna pulled off your nipple with a pop! grinning at you as he gave it one last kiss. his once fast paced strokes were replaced with slower, deeper ones, reaching deeper inside you than anyone you’ve ever been with. “you like when i fuck you like that? hm?” sukuna’s forehead was now pressed against yours, his nose nudging against yours.

you physically couldn’t find it in you to reply, too fucked out to even form a sentence. sukuna wrapped his hand around your throat, applying little pressure, his thrusts stopping completely. “wha? w-why’d you stop?” you clawed at his leather jacket, your hips bucking up into his.

“i asked you a question didn’t i?” his voice was strained as he spoke, your pussy squeezing around him every second. the dull throb of his dick inside you sent shivers up your spine. “yes?” you had meant for it to sound more like a statement than a question, but he gave you some grace, seeing as you already fucked out beyond belief.

his grip around your throat tightened, “so answer me. do you *thrust* like when i *harder thrust* fuck you like that? *really hard thrust* you better answer quickly before i pull—”

“yes! yes yes, i like when you fuck me deep like that! please don’t stop ‘kuna,” your voice was trembling as you spoke, your hands moving to his face to cradle his jaw. sukuna kissed your palm, pulling out until only his tip was in you before slamming back in. your chest arched into his, your already sensitive nipples rubbing against the soft material of his shirt.

“that’s a good girl, now cum on my dick,” his thumb began to rub tight, little circles on your clit, cursing to himself when he felt his orgasm quickly approaching as well. you squealed out a symphony of ‘oh my god’s, you legs squeezing around his waist impossibly tight as your pussy convulsed around his dick. a steady stream of you cum shot out at his lower stomach only egging him on to fuck you harder, deeper.

“goddamn y/n, you’re fucking baptizing me down here,” sukuna’s words were slurred, his eyes feeling droopy as he felt the coil in his stomach about to burst. he abruptly pulled out, jerking his dick until he nutted all over your pussy, smearing his cum around your folds. “don’t do that s’gonna make it even more messy,” you whined, hiding your face behind your hands.

“none of that now, cmon lemme see you,” sukuna chuckled, gently prying your hands from your face. he couldn’t help but internally coo at you, your post sex face melting his heart. “you’re so cute, be my girlfriend,” his sudden change of tone caught you completely off guard.

“wh-what?” you sat up on shaky hands, sukuna bringing his hands to your waist to keep you steady. “i said,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your cheek, “be my girlfriend.” you couldn’t help the giddy smile that took over your face, your cheeks heating up. “mm i don’t know, im not quite sure yet,” you decided to tease him a little making him smirk.

“i guess ill just have to be a little bit more convincing then hm?” he kissed his way down your neck, his hands gently pushing you down once again. sukuna began to kiss on the inside of your thighs, nibbling on the soft skin and running his tongue over it afterwards. your thighs shut around his head out of instinct when you felt his breath against at your pussy. you moaned oh so softly when you felt his tongue cup your clit.

the way sukuna had no problem devouring your pussy that was still dripping with his and your cum together had your tummy twisting, itching to jump his bones again. he moaned against your pussy, his brows scrunching when you tugged roughly at his hair. “we taste pretty good together,” the way he looked at your cunt it was almost like he was talking to it (he definitely was).

the car creaked under you as sukuna pushed your knees to your chest, slurping at your pussy as if he were a man starved. you mouth dropped open in a silent scream when you felt him push two fingers inside, instantly curling them. “hah! hah! m’gonna cum again i can’t, i can’t,” you were almost crying at this point, hot tears brimming your lash line.

“yes you can baby, i know you can. been so good f’me all night i know you can make this pussy cum one more time,” the pace of his fingers never faltered as he talked to you, the tips bumping against that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. you’d never experienced an orgasm so hard it had you sobbing, yet here you were thighs shaking violently as sukuna furiously rubbed at your clit, milking your orgasm as much as possible. his chin and the top of his shirt were soaked, but he was as happy as could be.

“‘k-kuna?”

“yes pretty baby?”

“i’ll be your girlfriend ♡”

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞

✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader

✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)

✧ wc: 13,544

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!

“You want me to teach you?” 

The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 

But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—

“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 

Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 

And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 

But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 

“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 

“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 

You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 

“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 

“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 

“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 

You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 

And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 

“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 

You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 

“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 

“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 

And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 

“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 

“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 

“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 

“Of course,” 

He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 

And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 

“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 

Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 

“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 

Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 

“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 

“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 

This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 

“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 

A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”

And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 

“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 

And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  

Fuck. 

“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 

He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 

Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 

His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 

“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 

“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 

Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.

“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 

“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 

And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 

He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 

“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 

“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 

Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 

His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 

“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 

“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 

And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 

“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 

“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 

“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 

Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 

But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 

Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)

You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—

Why did you still want more? 

When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 

And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 

“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 

“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 

“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 

“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 

“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 

“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 

“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 

“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 

She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 

“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 

“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 

“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 

God, what the fuck. 

“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 

“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  

“We don’t have to—“ 

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—

“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 

“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—

And it seemed he was here to stay. 

“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 

“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 

“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 

“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 

“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 

He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 

“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 

You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 

But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  

“I didn’t think I was either.” 

“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 

If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 

And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 

You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 

“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 

That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 

But you can’t. 

“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 

“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 

“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 

And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 

How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 

“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 

You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 

“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 

And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 

And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—

He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 

“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 

“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 

He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 

It was his favorite thing. 

“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 

“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 

“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 

“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 

And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 

“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 

His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 

“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 

“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 

“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 

The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 

His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 

“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 

“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 

“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 

He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 

“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 

He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  

His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 

His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 

He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 

Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—

Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 

What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 

He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 

“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 

He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 

Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 

The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 

“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 

It had been like this since that night. 

You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  

Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 

And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 

“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 

Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 

You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 

But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 

And now you know what you wanted to do. 

As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 

“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 

And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 

Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 

You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 

Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 

“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 

And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 

“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 

Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 

And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 

He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 

He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 

“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 

“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 

He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 

“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 

His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 

“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 

How long has it been? 

You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 

Great. 

It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 

Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 

No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 

But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 

You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 

“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 

“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 

It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 

“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 

“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 

“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 

“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 

“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 

“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 

“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 

“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 

“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 

You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 

“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 

“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 

“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 

He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 

Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 

“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 

“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 

He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 

It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 

“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 

“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 

“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 

When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  

And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 

He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 

You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 

“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 

“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 

You were in love. 

The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 

It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 

And he deserved more than that. 

He deserved more than you. 

And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 

“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 

“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 

“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 

So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 

“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 

“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 

“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 

“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 

“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 

But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 

“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 

What just happened? 

The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 

Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 

But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 

You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 

“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 

Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 

“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 

“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 

And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 

And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 

“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 

“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 

And maybe things could get back to normal. 

“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 

And you smile, “I love you too—“ 

“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 

“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 

“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 

“Yuji—“ 

“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 

“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 

“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”

“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 

“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 

Fuck it. 

You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 

“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 

“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 

“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 

“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 

Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 

Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 

“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 

“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 

His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 

“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 

“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 

“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 

He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 

You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 

“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 

And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.

He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 

He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 

You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 

And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 

“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 

“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 

“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 

And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 

“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 

And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 

And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 

You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 

And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 

“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 

“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 

“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 

And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 

“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 

He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 

And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 

You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 

“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 

“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 

You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 

And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 

Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 

And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 

“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 

“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 

“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 

“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 

And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 

“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 

“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 

“And you always will.” 

“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 

“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 

“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 

“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 

She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 

“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 

And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 

✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.

✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi

[fatherbrat]

TELL ME AGAIN, R. SUNA

sum. sequel to one last time. you visit suna after listening to the voicenote he sent you, just to talk, and end up doing a little more than that.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. cheating/infidelity, suna really got on my nerves while i was writing this and he'll probably get on yours too, arguing, choking (m. receiving), edging, cunnilingus, a little manhandling kinda, missionary, multiple instances of "i miss/ed you"

wc. 2k

Suna tries his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face when you text him to ask if he’s home. 

He knew that voice message would get you. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him it would be a monumental embarrassment if you didn’t, but it was drowned out by all the other voices in his head telling him to send, send, send, send.

His stomach turns with anticipation. He doesn’t even answer your question, just orders an Uber and sends you the car make and model and how long it will take to get to your apartment. 6 minutes. And then 12 minutes from yours to his. 

He fishes out the fancy santal candle he knows you like from beneath the bathroom sink and lights it in his bedroom. Then he brushes his teeth and puts some music on and waits.

He jumps when the doorbell rings.

There’s a moment of silence when he opens the door, the two of you just looking at each other. It hits Suna that this is the first time he’s seen you in person in months. He used to see you everyday. There's a part of his chest that seems to ache at the realization. He ignores it.

“Hi,” you breathe.

He blinks once. Twice. “Hey.” He opens the door a little wider and shifts to the side so you can come in.

You take one step closer and then stop, eyeing him with unjust suspicion. “I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”

Suna takes one look at your outfit—shorts that are definitely too short to be comfortable in this chilly fall weather and a sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his—and knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out, just grins and shrugs and ushers you inside anyway. 

You lean against the kitchen counter to survey the living room, pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as the last time you were here. Suna’s still standing by the door when you look at him again, arms crossed.

“So why’d you come over?” he asks.

It’s your turn to shrug. “You said you missed me.”

“Did I?”

You give him a sideways look. “You did.” You drag out the two words, nodding slowly and widening your eyes as if you’re speaking to a child.

Suna tilts his head to the side, smiling a little. “What else did I say?”

Oh lord. You should’ve known he’d be annoying about it. You shift your gaze up to the ceiling, pretending to struggle to remember even though you listened to his message several times, including once on the car ride over. 

“You said you weren’t happy for me…which is pretty fucked up.”

Suna just rolls his eyes. “What else?”

Eyes on the ceiling again. “You said you liked my Halloween costume. And that if I had sex with you it wouldn’t count as cheating because I haven’t been with him that long.” You put air quotes around his claim, sliding your eyes back down to meet his.

He’s standing closer to you now than he was a minute ago, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “Now that part’s fucked up. Where is the boyfriend, by the way?”

You make a face and look at the time on the microwave. “Probably home. Probably asleep.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?” He closes what’s left of the gap between you and tugs on the drawstring of your (his) sweatshirt to even out both ends.

“Fine…” you whisper, breath hitching when his hand brushes your ear on the way to your hoodie.

He hums after fixing the string and walks towards his bedroom, tapping your bare thigh as he passes you as a silent cue to follow.

You realize that he doesn’t believe your intentions for coming over are pure, which is true, but you don’t like that he didn’t even pretend to believe you. 

You follow his lead anyway, resting your head against the doorframe and watching him fish his phone out of his pocket and dump it on his desk. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I told you I just came over here to talk,” you snap.

Suna’s response is automatic. “No, you said you didn’t come over here to fuck.”

“Rin.”

He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees and his hands beneath his chin. “Alright. Talk.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have come.” You twist your foot to turn around and immediately hear the bed creak with relief. Suna wraps his hand around your wrist before you can fully turn your back.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “Stay. Please?”

He sounds like he’s begging. He looks like he’s begging, with his slumped shoulders and pleading eyes and desperation written all over his pretty face. 

It’s not enough. 

“My boyfriend doesn’t taunt me like this, you know,” you tell him, indignant.

Suna’s grip on your arms loosens as his face falls a bit.

You continue. “He’s actually nice to me. And he’s romantic. Treats me like royalty.”

You watch Suna’s jaw tick. His hand returns to his side. “He’s boring.”

“He’s steady.”

Suna’s tone grows terse. “Dull. Stale. Bland. Vanilla.”

“Stable and secure and safe.”

Suna snorts. “Safe,” he repeats, sarcastic. “I seriously don’t get how you can date him.” 

“Because he’s my boyfriend who I love and not just some guy I used to fuck when I was lonely.”

It’s a low blow. You and Suna were friends long before the benefits came along. Good friends. Close friends.

If he’s offended he doesn’t show it, just latches on to the first part of your sentence. “You don’t love him.”

He’s right. “You’re wrong.”

“Really? Why are you here then?” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because I said I missed you.”

You’re not sure when you started taking steps forward, or when Suna started moving backwards, but his calves hit the edge of the bed and suddenly he’s sitting again, looking up at you with that infuriating self-righteousness that makes your eye twitch.

And then your hand is squeezing his throat and your lips are on his and you’re straddling him and moaning into his mouth.

You feel him start to smile against you before he pulls away. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Don’t fucking say anything,” you tell him, before tugging his face towards you neck. 

You can tell Suna’s still smiling, but he obeys, sucking the tender spot right above your collarbone without another word. His hands find the bottom of your sweatshirt and he pulls it up. 

His lips leave your skin and your hand leaves his neck so you can take your arms out of the sleeves and he can yank it over your head and drop it on the floor. Then he rests his hands on your hips and just looks at you. 

Goosebumps dance across your shoulders and arms. Suna wants to comment on how you're not wearing a bra but he doesn’t, just continues to stare. 

“What?” you ask.

He takes in the sight of you on top of him, the rise and fall of your chest—quicker than normal, a side effect of him riling you up. He revels in the weight of you on his legs and tries to recall the last time you had him beneath you like this. Your birthday? His birthday? Or maybe it was that time he tried to cheer you up after you got laid off. Either way, it’s been a long time and he hates to think about how you’ve probably been doing this with your boyfriend instead of him.

He can’t help himself. “You straddle the boyfriend like this?”

You huff and press your palm to his chest, shoving him onto his back. Your face hovers over his. “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”

Suna studies your face and puts his hands around your waist and beams. It’s the only signal you get before he flips you, putting your head on a pillow and taking his own shirt off before he drops it on the ground somewhere near your hoodie.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, glancing at the hard outline growing in his sweats as you trail your fingertips up his thigh. He leans into you and rests his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you,” he says softly. 

Your heart beats at a concerning speed. “I know.”

He gets up from the bed and snaps the waistband of your shorts before telling you to take them off and removing the rest of his own clothes. When he crouches over you again, you place the sole of your foot flat against him and tut. 

“You also said you’d do that thing I like with your tongue.”

Again, Suna chooses not to comment. He wonders how many times you listened to the message, because it’s sounding like more than once, more than a couple. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, forcing a giggle out of your throat before he plants his head between your legs. 

He circles your clit, avoiding making contact with it directly and making teasing strokes with his fingers until you’re panting and quivering and making shaky demands for him to let you come on his tongue. When he does, you scream his name. 

“Music to my fucking ears,” he says under his breath, licking your slick off his lips. “You scream this loud for him too?”

You can't believe you forgot how aggravating he is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

He looks so smug. You start to think that the desperation from before was too short-lived, until he’s inside you and you’re filled with him and that familiar need that makes you wrap your legs around him and claw at his back.

All you can think about is how you miss him and you missed this, and you’re telling him to fuck you harder, and then his mouth is right below your ear and his hair is tickling your cheek and a stream of yes’s and Rin’s are tumbling out of your mouth like dominoes and youre trying to pull him impossibly closer and youre so surrounded by him that its dizzying and youre whispering i miss you in his ear and hoping it doesnt sound like i love you and hes saying i miss you too and youre wondering if he really means i love you too and then youre biting into his shoulder and—  

You lose count of how many times you come. Both of you do. The two of you are coated in sweat, laying on damp sheets in a room that now smells like sex and sandalwood. Neither of you speak, busy catching your breath and being lost in thought. You don’t want to say anything, afraid you’ll break the spell.

You didn’t have to worry about that, though, because you hear your phone ping loudly and realize it’s on the floor, still tucked away in the front pocket of your sweatshirt. Suna turns his head towards you.

“You should break up with him.”

You raise an eyebrow at the seriousness in his voice and sigh. “I know.”

“Today.”

A pause. “Okay.”

There’s another moment where none of you speak. And then–

“You should date me instead.”

You turn to face him and the earnestness in his expression catches you so off guard you have to look away again. It’s not that you never expected him to bring it up, you just hadn't expected him to sound so sincere when he did.

You had toyed with the idea before, a handful of times even, but everything between you two was so easy—why would you mess it up with a what are we? conversation? Although, you suppose you messed it up anyway by getting a boyfriend and ditching Suna without warning.

It takes you a long time to respond, long enough that Suna starts to game plan an exit strategy, but then you meet his gaze again.

“Okay.”

[servicpop]

family trip adrien ( deliquent oc ) x bttm m reader

ⓘ established relationship au

Through the excessive amount of visiting each other's houses almost everyday of the week, it was only natural that your families would grow close.

It wasn't a surprise when you received a pretty little invitation by Adrien to come join him and his family on a small trip to the coast. Since you had nothing better to do that weekend, you gladly accepted. Adrien brought up his family's van and offered you a ride in which you also agreed.

You never thought to ask Adrien about his family, assuming it was a topic he didn't particularly like as he never talked about them anyways. So seeing two little girls and a young boy that were the splitting image of Adrien if not his parents. They were a rather rowdy bunch as Adrien's mother rounded up the little troublemakers into the 2nd row of the van while her husband was busy packing things into the trunk.

“Why didn't you tell me you had siblings? And so many,” You question, turning to Adrien who seemed to be on his last straw trying to get his siblings to calm down.

“Didn't think I seemed like an only child,” he quipped.

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes when Adrien's mother walks up to you. She's gorgeous, straight nut brown hair, short and slim like a doe. It's strikingly different from Adrien's rough appearance.

“Oh dear, it seems like there's only one chair left,” Mrs Castillo's voice is like a hydrating balm to the soul as she places a hand on her cheek.

You open your mouth to propose a solution — as the responsible person you are — but you're acutely cut off by prince charming himself.

“He can sit on my lap, no problem.” You can see the relieved expression Adrien's mother carries before she walks off into the passenger's side of the van, leaving you absolutely speechless.

“Since when did I agree to that?” You sigh, but it's ultimately the only solution you can think of on the spot.

Adrien slips into the back seat first, getting himself comfortable before patting his thighs. There's a sour expression on your face as you climb in, settling yourself on Adrien's lap. He slips on the seatbelt from behind you and slides his arms around your waist, holding you close.

“Don't worry, I'll be your seatbelt.”

“I wasn't worrying.”

The ride was anything but smooth. You were profoundly aware of every single movement Adrien made underneath you, the soft thumping of his heart rattled against his chest every time you leaned back to rest.

Not to mention his demon-like siblings turning around to ask you bizarre questions.

“Did Adrien kidnap you?” “Do you think you can do a cartwheel and then the splits because I can.” “How much money did he pay you to be here?”

You couldn't even answer one question before another was interjected. Even Adrien seemed annoyed by this constant noise.

“Stop bothering him,” His tone caught you off-guard; it was harsh and grounded like he truly meant it. It didn't seem like the kids understood the message until Adrien swatted at them to turn around.

He sighed, leaning back into the car seat, pulling you down with him.

“They can be a damn handful sometimes,” He exhaled, letting his forehead rest on your shoulder.

The soft gesture, the heat radiating off his face to your shoulder, and his forearms locked tightly around your waist made something in your heart ache ever so slightly. Your fingers hesitantly move to rest on Adrien's arm, patting it gently like you're consoling him.

A few more hours pass by and the kids have already fallen asleep, not a sign of liveliness from the three. Your own eyelids start to grow heavy until the van drives over a rather large speed bump. From the scratchy sound of tires crunching along gravel, you can pretty much assume that the road is going to be filled with dents and bumps.

A barely audible groan comes out from Adrien's throat and you freeze up. Did you hurt him? Your movements are cautious as you turn your torso to look back at him, trying not to move so much so you don't hurt him further.

“Shit, are you okay?” Your eyes narrow and your nose crinkles in concern, Adrien has his head lowered before he lifts it up to meet your gaze.

The hands planted firmly around your body tighten and he pulls you back up against him.

“Just— Stay still,” he grunts out, forehead returning back to your shoulder.

You shuffle just back to get comfortable just enough that you practically grind against the tent growing in Adrien's pants. It takes you a moment to realize what was happening. A small gasp escapes your lips as you grip the flesh on his arm, keeping your head dipped.

The van drives over another bump and you feel it now. Adrien's hand clasps around your shoulder blade and he muffles a strangled grunt again. Your body grows hotter by the second, heat pooling in your lower half.

Now you were both hard.

“Ah shit, prez, you're gonna kill me,” He lets out a dry chuckle, hips twitching from underneath you. You crave it just as bad as you're rocking your body against his in a steady pace. There were too many people in the van, it was way too dangerous to fix the little problem.

“Wait it out,” You whisper, patting his arm once more like trying to calm down a dog.

He doesn't respond, instead, he grumbles into your shoulder.

The van finally comes to a stop. The engine whirrs off and the kids are hustled out of the doors before you and Adrien climb out behind them. There's a satisfying crackle and pop of your joints as you stretch, letting the good ol' sunlight kiss your deprived skin.

Getting the bags out of the trunk wasn't much work since you packed only for 3 days so you rolled your suitcase into the lobby alongside Adrien's family. A small notification pops up on your screen, a check-in from your family which you happily reply to.

Since it was such a large gathering, the family had split into different rooms with you and Adrien sharing one.

The reception hands Adrien's mother the keycard to each room and she hands them out, passing one to Adrien.

You turn your attention to him to see the guy already racing his way towards you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you past his family. You can hear a brief exchange of words between him and his dad, picking up on the lousy excuse that you're 'tired.'

Through the lobby, past the pools, around the bar and to your shared room. Adrien smashes the key card against the reader and he slams the door open.

“Fucking finally,” he sighs, shutting the door behind himself and burying his hands into the back of your head. He's tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling it back before latching his mouth onto yours.

He's practically welding himself to you, devouring your lips in a heated kiss. He pulls back to look into your eyes before he goes in for a second serving. Adrien guides you towards the bedroom, lips never leaving yours as he gently pushes you back onto the bed.

“You know how hard it was to keep myself in line?” Adrien chuckled against your cheek, his hands beginning to descend your body, tracing all the way down to the waistband of your pants.

“That's your job baby, not mine.”

You have half the heart to complain when he's pulling off your pants, lifting your hips off the bed to help him slide your clothes off. He pulls both your legs up and over his shoulders before kneeling onto the ground beside the bed.

“Adrien,” you call out his name almost breathlessly, fingers finding purchase in his thick hair.

He responds with a small hum that causes his throat to vibrate ever so slightly. Adrien's hands are coiled around your thighs, palms laying flat on your lower stomach as he leans in to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips tickle your skin and you can't help but jerk your leg from the sensation—which you're prevented from doing so by his arms holding your legs hostage.

Warmth envelops your lower half as Adrien wraps his mouth around your cock. His breath is hot against your trembling skin and he forces the most obscene noises out his throat. Slick slurping sounds mixed with groans and sighs like he's been starved a hearty meal.

The hand on your stomach slides up, pushing your shirt further so he could feel the flat plane of your torso. Your squirms and thigh twitches are held down by his built arms—it honestly seems like he trains just for this.

“Could do this for days.” its hard to tell what he's saying since all his words and muffled and gurgled.

He pulls off for one second to fish out lubricant from the hotel drawers, applying a hefty amount to his fingers before returning back to you.

Sliding back down to his knees, he prods a finger to your winking hole, teasing and pushing past that ring of muscle and pulling it back out just to watch it shiver from the loss.

“Pervert,” You grumble under your breath.

“Who's the one who asked me out?”

You shoot Adrien an irked glare but the annoyance fades from your face the moment he wraps his mouth around your dick once more. Your eyes flutter as he finally pushes that finger in, sliding in a second to slowly scissor you loose.

He's more skilled than you with his tongue and you can't help but wonder what his past experiences were like; you dismiss that thought as quick as it came.

You look down at him from half-closed eyes, watching as he hollows his cheeks to take in more. You're practically whining and thrashing around in his grip. He's buried his face to the hilt, nose brushing against your pelvic bone. Its almost a ticklish sensation, feeling him breathe against your skin.

His fingers press and pressure your walls, pushing them apart to ready you for his cock. He's rhythmically pushing his fingers deeper, curling at the apex before pulling them back, repeating that process in a steady pace. You can feel them hit your prostate, sending jolts straight to your dick.

It's too much for you to handle; your hips are rising to meet the bob of his head, back arching off the satin white sheets.

“Wait— Adrien pull off I don't want you to—” Your words are all diced up, spoken in short gasps as you try to pry his head off from your aching cock.

You succeed—for a bit—before he's dipping all the way down again, holding your hips steady as he forces you down his throat. He's fucking loving it too, moaning with your dick in his mouth as his fingers speed up, pistioning two fingers into your hole.

Your hips raise even more and he encourages it.

His name comes spilling out of your mouth like a mantra as your muscles spasm from the intensity of your orgasm. Adrien keeps sucking like he's trying to wring every last drop from you. You feel his tongue swirl over your slit, lapping up your sweet fluids.

He slides himself off of you, letting you rest on the bed for a bit as he tilts his head back. His Adam's apple bobs while he swallows, and he lowers his head back down to smile at you.

“Don't tell me you're tired already, I haven't even taken off my pants yet,” he tsks at you, shaking his head disapprovingly while he joins you on the bed. You're still dazed from how hard you just came but a warm hand pulls you back down to earth.

Adrien's hand grazes over your cheek delicately as he hovers over you, caging you in with two arms on either side of your head.

“Just relax prez, I'll do all the work, 'kay?” He takes your little grunt as an 'okay,' rolling you onto your stomach and guiding your head to rest on the pillow. It smells so distinctly of freshly cleaned hotel sheets with a hint of citrus and bleach that you take a moment to close your eyes and enjoy the scent.

You can feel the mattress dip on either sides of your hips as he plants his knees there. He leans his head down to peek at your blissed-out face, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. You can feel his hands run down the curve of your spine, running over your lower back before he settles them on your waist.

“Are you relaxed?” He hums, leisurely rolling his hips against you. His tone is so sultry it causes your muscles to visibly relax under the siren call of his voice.

A hand moves down to where your leg meets the curve of your ass, parting the round flesh for him to comfortably slide in. He had stretched you out enough that it slipped in with ease, hugged by your warm velvet walls.

He sucks in air between his teeth while he steadily rocks his body back and forth, tuning into the wet squelching sound with each thrust.

“Feel it yet?” He chuckles, poking fun at the fact that you've been too dazed to respond to him. You nod against the pillow, your hair spilling over the silk case like spilt water. A small, shaky exhale leaves your nose as he begins to hasten his thrusts. It's almost bruising as he slams himself against your tailbone—you know you'll be whining about the soreness tomorrow morning.

Your voice gradually gets louder as he pounds you into the bed, fingers curled up in the sheets as he slams his pelvis against your ass. You can feel him throb from inside you, twitching and ready.

A particularly deep thrust has you crying out into the pillow but you can't squirm, not when Adrien is pinning you down with his body weight. He's pushing against your prostate over and over again and you can feel that familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you.

“Fuck, Adrien,” You hiccup, muffled by the fluff of the pillow, eyes flickering like you're struggling to keep them open.

“Yeah baby?” You can hear the smirk in his tone as he keeps at the rough pace. He's hitting all the right spots and your dick appreciates. You feel a hand dip under your neck, cupping the curve of your throat as Adrien lifts your head up to face him.

He moves in to kiss you, soft and gentle as he wraps his arms around your whole body, holding you in a tight grip while continuously slamming himself deeper into you. Your loud cries and moans are enveloped by Adrien's mouth, swallowed up.

“You gonna cum? Feels so good you just can't hold it in?” He cooes, chuckling against your swollen lips as he feels you tremble underneath him. You swear stars enter your vision and your eyes roll back, muscles jerking and tensing as you let out a string of whimpers while your orgasm comes crashing onto you.

Adrien buries himself to the hilt before emptying out all he's worth, coating your insides with his dna. He groans as he pulls out halfway just to watch his semen flood out of your hole, still tightly clenched around his cock.

He sits up, raking his fingers through his tousled hair and sighs with satisfaction like drinking an ice cold soda in a hot summer day.

“You tired prez?” He asks, smiling down at you. His eyes narrow and concern settles in when you don't move or answer him.

“Baby?” He quickly leans back down to look at your face only to see your peaceful expression, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape. He lets out a relieved chuckle before pulling out, sliding off the bed to grab a towel.

He figured he'd get you some fruit to replenish your energy, pulling on some of his clothes after cleaning you up and getting you comfortable in the bed. He makes his way to the buffet, piling all favorite fruits and sweets onto his plate before he spots his family.

“Where's your boyfriend?” Adrien's mother asks, also holding a plate of food. Seemed like the two of you missed lunch.

“He's uh—” Adrien tenses knowing that he can't just openly admit to his mother that he fucked the daylights out of you.

“Taking a nap.”

[gutsby]

High Risk

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Your dad finds out.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv/a. Age gap. Daddy kink. Sneaky sex. Breeding kink. Anal. Use of various sex toys. Joel Miller eats it from the back like a gentleman should. Slight pain kink, but it’s consensual. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—please read at your own risk!

Word count: 15.0k

Read on AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Joel Miller had the willpower of a sack of flour.

If you beckoned, he came. If you called, he answered.

No matter the hour of day, any time or place, that man would be there, no hesitation and no questions asked.

Hell, he might’ve had a couple qualms about fucking at a gas station off I-10 in the middle of the day, but his devotion to you quickly overpowered any better sense. He just unzipped his jeans in the front seat of his Bronco, let you climb across the center console and into his lap, and, parked directly next to a gas pump somewhere just shy of Webster, Texas, he let you ride him for six minutes.

That was all either one of you needed to get off. With his keys out of the ignition and the thin, frigid air of a winter’s day soaking straight through to your bones and his, you needed to move quick to keep warm. You buried your face into his neck and whimpered repeatedly, ‘Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,’ and Joel had no choice but to oblige, really. He stroked the back of your head with one of his big, warm palms and told you he was right here, ‘m always here, sweet pea. That helped you climax fast.

It also didn’t hurt that you’d nudged the hand cupping your ass to start touching somewhere lower, inside there

Joel’s fingers brushed through the wet, sticky glaze from where your bodies connected and started rubbing someplace new—at your request, of course—and his heart damn near burst out of his chest when you let out a wanton moan at the touch. His cock twitched, and your walls clenched around him when his index first petted that tight ring of muscles. You squirmed in his lap.

“Fuck me there, Joel. Push it in,” you whimpered.

At least half of that sentiment must have been the pre-climax talking, Joel reckoned, but he couldn’t deny that he felt equally enthralled by that spot. It was more just curiosity and mindless need, wondering what you’d feel like wrapped around him in that new place. His fingertip breached the tiny ring, and the two of you groaned into each other. It was mind-numbing. He might’ve plunged his digit in and out all of five times before you were both pushed over the edge. You came with a shuddering cry, and Joel filled the condom inside you in thick, hot spurts.

Joel’s vision blurred for a second with how hard he came

He was still blinking, still breathing like his ribcage might cave at any moment, and you were lifting off him gently.

A little squelch and a sigh from your lips were all that he heard over the rush in his skull. Absently, Joel plucked the rubber off and looked around for a tissue to put it in.

He’d just secured it, and was zipping up his pants to step out of the car and toss it in the trash, when he saw you turned, peering out the back window. He chucked the condom and returned to find you in the same position.

“We should try anal next,” you said simply.

Clinically.

Joel almost dropped his keys turning the Bronco back on

“Try w—” He choked on the last word and stumbled for the third and fourth, sputtering. “What do you mean?”

Finally, you shifted back to face the front, to face him, and a smile was playing at your lips. Your nose wrinkled.

“You don’t know what that means, Joel? Pretty sure the mechanics are about the same as any other type of fucking, just like…in my butt,” you said teasingly.

Like hell it was.

You were no more than forty-five minutes away from your destination in Galveston. Your dad was already at his timeshare down there and would be expecting you soon. Both of you had been a little off-kilter ever since the man had called out of the blue that morning and offered you, Tommy, and Maria the weekend getaway at his place, but still. This? Where the hell had you gotten an idea like that in your head, when the focus was supposed to be on laying low the next couple days? Keeping sex to its usual bounds, not doing anything risky near your dad.

You and him had a pretty bad track record in that.

All the same, trying anal at your dad’s beach house sounded more than just crazy. It was plainly absurd.

Joel was planning to tell his best friend that he was in love with you not too far in the future. How was that conversation likely to fare if the man happened to catch him with his dick in his daughter’s backdoor beforehand?

“I ain’t fuckin’ your ass,” he mumbled grumpily instead.

He turned on the car and cranked the tunes to drown out any protest from you—and to quiet his own wild musings

What if he could, just once?

Would you even like it?

Damn, it might not—

“You need COOOOOOOOLIN’, baby I’m not FOOOLIN’.”

Thank you, Robert Plant.

The song started playing, and he felt especially grateful.

Actually, Joel might need the entirety of Led Zeppelin’s discography to clear his head of the nonsense currently coursing through it. He gripped the wheel tighter in his fists and started out of the gas station parking lot then.

You drummed a mindless beat with your fingertips on your thigh. Your legs were crossed, and you occasionally flit looks over your shoulder. At what, Joel had no idea.

“Take a left on General Acacius Way,” you said casually.

“What?” Joel turned to you.

Your finger was already pointing in the direction you wanted him to take the car. Your shoulders were relaxed, and that mischievous glint in your eye was unmistakable.

“Left on that road, then there should be another parking lot just behind the auto shop. It’s right beside the…yeah.”

Yeah.

Joel turned the wheel to pull onto the nearest street, and suddenly, he saw it. Right across the intersection, no more than a stone’s throw away from where he sat, there was a storefront that nearly made his eyes pop out.

He never considered himself a prude before.

In fact, he’d always thought he was pretty adventurous when it came to sex and being open-minded about stuff.

But this was fucking nuts.

There, on the corner of General Acacius Way and Clint Avenue, he saw a store with flashing pink-and-white lights and an even bigger, gaudier neon sign hanging above them, blinding half the street and making sure that it was seen on even the brightest, sunniest of days:

‘Mandalorian Sex Emporium: This is the Way���to Pleasure’

You had to be fucking joking.

You weren’t joking.

You’d gotten the idea driving to Galveston—or, rather, seated on your boyfriend’s lap and having him finger you in a place he’d never done it before—and then ran with it.

Sprinted, more like.

Your life and Joel’s were rife with stressors and uncertainty and fucked up paternal concerns galore. You’d been thinking nonstop about your dad’s latest conversation with Joel and about the possibility of him finding out about your secret relationship, and it had nearly sent you spiraling. You needed a distraction.

Was it the wisest idea to have that distraction be Joel’s dick in your ass? Probably not. But there were certainly worse ways to be spending your time, and sitting around wondering why the hell your dad had never bothered to tell you that he might not be your biological father, or that Tommy fucking Miller might have been, was useless. You wouldn’t know a thing until you talked to him yourself—and that conversation would have to take place later. This weekend, probably. Presently, you were perusing an aisle full of water-based lubricants, smiling.

Joel wasn’t quite scowling, but he certainly had that look

Like a father himself, far from approving of this scheme.

“Y’think flavored is the way to go?” you asked casually.

You held bottles of Beskar Berry Blast and Coruscant Cotton Candy in either hand and held them up for the purpose of getting your old man’s opinion on them, but his eyes glazed over both. His gaze penetrated yours, and then it flitted down to what he held in his own hand.

His phone.

Also, he had on his reading glasses.

They sat perched atop the tip of his nose, and from that look alone, you knew whatever came next would be good

Joel cleared his throat.

“Sugary lubricants are much more likely to cause a bacterial imbalance—infection, even—and with the heightened risk of microtears in the anal cavity—”

“Jo-el.”

You groaned.

Joel didn’t blink.

“What? If you’re grown-up enough to want anal sex, you need to be able to say the words. I mean it, sweetheart…”

And with that, he straightened. His back audibly cracked. Though he didn’t wince, you could tell that he’d felt it, as his brows were furrowed returning his focus to his phone

He was even more serious than normal, you could tell. Swiftly, you sidled up next to him. You looked down.

In the search bar on Joel’s phone, you read:

How to do anal first time painless & safe

Peering up, you saw his lips were in a line. He was scrolling through results like this was of the utmost importance, and your heart clenched, realizing just how much he cared for your well-being. On top of that, you sensed there was more to his nerves than just the sex.

“We don’t…have to do it, Joel,” you told him softly. “Seriously, it’s OK if you’re uncomfortable. Or worried.”

That last word carried the weight of the sentence, and at length, Joel met your look. His shoulders sagged a little.

He pocketed his cell. Put his glasses in his breast pocket.

“No. I’m alright. Really. Just thinkin’ of stuff,” he replied.

“Like Dad?”

“Like him shovin’ a shotgun up my ass.”

And both of you smiled some, but it was tense. Strained.

That momentary relief of humor between you two was, by force of circumstance, dampened by some weightier considerations. Like maybe this detour was a bad way to distract, and you shouldn’t be seeking that out right now

Maybe sneaking around your dad was risky enough.

Hell, maybe even the truth about you two had to wait.

It was a thought born of fear, but an honest feeling all the same—and, seeming to sense this, Joel’s expression softened. Suddenly, his hand was reaching for yours.

“I’m not havin’ second thoughts about tellin’ him, if that’s what you’re wonderin’,” he resumed, eyes on you.

“We just need to…go slow,” you finished. Questioning.

The fingers threaded through yours squeezed them.

“If that’s what you need, then I’ll do it, sweetheart.”

Slow.

Steady.

Setting an even pace for everything to come.

You couldn’t help but see some parallels, to, well…this.

You set the flavored lubes aside. You took Joel’s advice—got some simple, no-frills stuff. It wasn’t about being in a rush, or needing this new, fun thing to be a diversion from the reality you were currently facing. You did it because you wanted to. Because Joel was open to it, too, and though he was being extra cautious, you knew it all stemmed from the love that he had for you. It always did.

You picked out toys. You had to bite back a smile seeing your old man take in the sight of some thick, ten-inch plastic shafts and whistle quietly to himself. He picked out vibrating panties he thought might be fun, and you got two different sets of plugs and beads. By the end of your little excursion, both of you were calmer and content. You strolled out of that Mand’alor sex shop feeling more at ease than you’d been for a good bit.

In the Bronco, back on the road and hitting the homestretch of your trip down to the beach, you did feel like a weight had been lifted. If not completely dissolved, your anxiety, at least, had seemed to take the backseat.

With Joel up front and occasionally squeezing your thigh, telling you just how excited he was to spend the weekend together, you wanted to forget your worries.

You wanted it to be you, Joel, and no one else for a while.

Tommy picked the worst goddamn times to show face.

It was either that he had the worst timing known to man, or he secretly relished catching his brother in the most compromising positions—like the one he was in now.

You and Joel had gotten to the house around noon, not long after you were expected to arrive. Your father was already gone when you got there, having shot a text to say he was looking at bike rentals and that he’d made reservations for lunch at a restaurant down the road—head on over in twenty minutes, and I’ll meet y’all there.

Naturally, with the code to unlock the front door and almost a half hour to spare, a quickie had been a must.

You’d gotten busy in the first guest bathroom you could find and washed off the sex toys you’d just bought, too.

It was incredible how fucking arousing the sight of a little silver plug with a jewel at its base could be to see inside you. After a few slow pumps of his fingers while he fucked you up against the sink in doggy, along with a dollop or two of lube, he’d worked it in you. He thumbed at the spot where your hole was stopped up and smiled.

Then his brother had barged into the house downstairs.

“Who’s ready for some fuckin’ gruuuuuub?!” he’d yelled.

That had been over an hour ago. Now you, him, Tommy, Maria, and your dad were all finishing up said grub at a little cafe on the beach. You were dining outdoors, and the sun was shining bright, but not oppressively. A gentle breeze blew. The food was so good Joel could’ve sworn that his eyes had rolled back in ecstasy twice.

You, too, were squirming—but for very different reasons.

Before you’d left, you put on the vibrating panties. Joel had the remote that controlled them, and he’d been turning it on and off, up and down, all at his leisure.

He wasn’t going crazy, though.

The two of you had agreed you needed to be careful this weekend and couldn’t take too many risks near his friend

But, then again, you were you, and Joel was Joel.

Of course, you’d be fucking around a little bit.

Your dad was calling for the check presently.

You’d just reached for your glass of sweet tea, now nearly empty, but the second the rim touched your lips, your grip slipped. For a beat, Joel thought you might drop it.

Shit.

Dial that down to a…four, maybe?

The settings went all the way to ten. Apparently shocking you out of nowhere with a six was enough to make your eyes bug out and a cough to push itself out of your chest

“You alright, kiddo?” Tommy asked beside you.

You coughed again and forced a smile.

You quickly nodded back at him.

“Fine. Just—fine.” And at the last, your gaze shot to Joel.

You fucker.

He deserved that.

Under the table, holding the remote to your panties, he notched the toy back down to two, just to be nice. You visibly relaxed and pried your eyes off of his, but not before narrowing them briefly. I’m watching you, Miller.

Joel hoped you’d do a lot more to him than that by the time he was done. Just when your dad reached for the bill being handed over by the waitress, he intercepted it.

He slid his card out and stuffed it inside the little folder.

“Meal’s on me,” Joel announced without ceremony.

His friend gave him an appreciative, if not slightly objecting look. He looked like he was about to protest the offer, when Joel tucked his wallet—along with your underwear’s remote—into his pocket. He handed the check back to the waitress and told her not to accept a penny from his friend. Your dad barked a laugh at that.

“Joel, you know I’m fine to—”

“Fucking shit.”

The words leapt through your gritted teeth before you could even think to stop them from coming, it looked like

Joel’s eyes were on you the same second you said them, and as soon as he did, he saw you grip the edge of the table. You blinked hard and coughed a third time. Loud.

He hadn’t even…

“Language, young lady,” your dad snapped. “What is it?”

He gave the same look Joel had seen his own father give him and Tommy countless times growing up—the kind that said we’re out in public, don’t be showin’ your ass.

It wasn’t really your fault, though, if Joel had to guess.

Shortly, he was feeling around for your remote.

Next to you, Maria had a hand on your back.

“You need some water? Here.”

And she offered you hers.

You shook your head vehemently, and shifted in your seat again. Cursed again, though bit your tongue with it.

“Motherfuckin’ piece’a—ah, ah.”

You clamped down at the last.

Was that a moan at the end?

Joel fished around his pocket even quicker. At the same time, your dad ditched his fork from trying to shovel in the last couple bites of his mahi-mahi and glared at you.

“Is there something you’d like to share, sweetheart?”

No the absolute fuck there isn’t.

Where is it, where is it, where is it?

Joel had just been holding it a second ago. His pants pockets weren’t that deep. If he could just grab it and—

“No!” you cried. Actually, it was more like a plea. Your expression pinched, and your fingernails dug into the table, and right as Joel got his hand on the little pink remote, you almost jumped sideways out of your chair.

Fortunately, the waitress arrived with the check again. She handed it to him, thanked them for stopping by, and while your father was momentarily distracted, Joel found the remote. He clicked the button and realized that it had been cranked to ten as his ass was crushing it under him.

Whether you were about to climax on the spot or bawl your fucking eyes out was anyone’s guess at that point.

Joel shut your undies off.

You let out a heaving sigh.

Your father eyed you incredulously. Frowning.

“Any other stunts you’d like to pull before we go biking?” he said, though it was clear he wasn’t expecting a reply.

You gave him one anyway.

Answering your dad but looking directly at Joel, you said:

“I don’t think I wanna come, actually. I’m too tired now.”

***

It was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him on the spot.

If looks could kill, yours just might have done him in.

Lunch had ended without event—well, as much as could be said for your father occasionally stealing looks your way and seeming to wonder whether you might not have gotten drunk during the meal—but still, you made it out. Of course, your dad had roped you, Joel, Tommy, and Maria into riding bikes that afternoon, despite your protests, and despite the fact that the man was still recovering from an injured femur. Your dad had agreed to ride an e-bike to minimize strain, and he’d seemed as cheerful as anything to get going. Joel felt your sidelong dirty looks the whole walk to the rental bike place, and though they weren’t the dirty looks he liked, he still managed to maintain a happy demeanor himself.

He’d even gone so far as to squeeze your elbow playfully and say, ‘Bet I’ll beat you in a race down the beach, kid.’

He did make sure it sounded as platonic and innuendo-less as possible, though. If there was any time to ensure you kept things G-rated and non-suspicious, now was it.

Evidently, you weren’t having it.

Still shaking from your almost-orgasm at lunch, and likely dreading having to sit on a bike an excruciating hour or three, it seemed you wanted nothing more than to make Joel’s life misery now—in a sweet, discreet way.

He should’ve known it when you first peeled off your shirt getting onto your bike, leaving you in nothing but a lime green string bikini top and your shorts. Technically, it had been Tommy who started the trend by claiming it was ‘hot as shit’ and proceeding to rip off his own tee, but Joel sensed from the look you gave him as soon as you shed yours too that you meant to torture him. If he’d had his fun with a vibrating pair of panties, you could do the same showing off your rack while you rode this bike.

And you did. You’d pulled up right beside him no more than ten seconds after your dad had started off down the path to lead the way, and you’d arched your back, pretending to stretch in your seat before setting off yourself. You’d made sure Joel saw your tits in all their full, heaving, teasing beauty, and then you’d leaned in.

“What do I get if I beat you down there, daddy?”

You’d said it quietly; Joel didn’t hesitate.

“Whatever the fuck you want, baby.”

He might’ve been in for an afternoon of torment, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t tempt you right back—he would get a moment alone with you one way or another today.

Still, as expected, the bike ride went on forever.

Joel’s balls ached, and it wasn’t just from the triangular-shaped, hard-as-shit seat underneath him. You rode beside him, in front of him, weaving back and forth with ease and showing him everything he couldn’t touch with his best friend no more than fifteen feet away from him. It was agony. And it didn’t improve when your group hopped off their bikes an hour later to stop for ice cream. If anything, the torture just took on a bittersweet tinge.

You were talking to your dad again. On the bike ride, along the boardwalk, at the ice cream shop—for what had seemed like the first time in ages, you were really speaking to your old man and seeming to enjoy yourself. Joel knew there was a lot more to be ironed out between you two, and that would come eventually, but for now, you got to relax. On top of this absurd, mind-numbing attraction he had for you, he also felt oddly content to watch you bond with your father like this, in front of him.

Joel hoped he wouldn’t be the reason it all went to shit.

You were licking cookies and cream ice cream off the side of your cone, then your wrist, where the milky substance had trickled down a little bit. Joel was fighting like hell not to make that sexual in his mind, but it was difficult when you’d sucked him off dozens and dozens of times before. Your dad laughed at something you said; he practically wheezed, and then he’d pinched your nose affectionately. You wrinkled it in response, still grinning.

Joel loved you.

He was seconds away from sporting a raging erection under his shorts, and he loved you more than anything.

He really didn’t want your relationship with him to be the reason why you lost your own with your father, and for a moment, Joel wondered if it might not be a good idea for the two of you to wait. Until you were a little older, out of college, maybe making some money of your own and able to decide for yourself if he was what you really—

“Sweetheart!”

That was your dad.

But it wasn’t for you.

It wasn’t spoken to you, but rather behind you, where the ice cream shop’s front door had jingled with a new arrival

It all happened faster than Joel could process it—your smile had been so big beaming back at your father, reminiscing on some old memories together, and then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Lost. Dropped off of your face completely the second you turned around.

His friend rose to his feet and went for a warm greeting; at the same time, Tommy’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

Beside him, Maria’s did the same.

So he’d told her about Helen, then.

Your dad had just pulled the woman in for a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. Helen had smiled appreciatively at first, then a little sheepishly as her gaze darted over the four other people sitting at the table.

Your look was as deadened as Joel had ever seen it—leagues worse than when you’d been mad about the vibrating panty situation. Your whole demeanor had taken a nosedive, and your back straightened reflexively.

You lowered your ice cream cone and eyed them both.

“Maria, I don’t think you and Helen have been introdu—” your dad started to say, but even he, in all of his affable humor couldn’t ignore the way your chair scraped back.

You stood and tossed your cone in the trash.

Then, without saying another word, you left.

It wasn’t particularly dramatic, loud, or angry. In fact, your movements were as mechanical and unaffected as if you’d just felt a cool draft and wanted to take a step outside. It didn’t look like you were annoyed at anything.

You got the fuck out of there, though.

You discarded your frozen treat like it was nothing, and, without thinking, Joel did the same starting after you.

Dimly, he was aware of the bell over the door jingling a third time with his exit. He felt the sun on his face and a breeze through his hair as he followed in your wake. It seemed you’d considered your bike outside for all of one second before quickly diverting your path; you decided you’d walk. You did walk for several yards in front of him.

Joel called your name.

You were off at a fast clip, so he had to jog to catch up.

When he did—and that didn’t take long—he reached out.

You jerked your arm away: “I’m not doing this shit, Joel.”

“I know.”

Another step closer.

Another pass for your elbow.

You didn’t fight it at first, as you’d gotten better about trusting him in moments like these. You’d improved your general reaction to bad situations and had managed to leave the shop without causing a scene. Still, old habits died hard, and in a second, you were pulling away and starting off even faster—further from him, to the beach.

Speed-walking at this point, like you needed to blow off some steam and couldn’t do that anywhere but near a body of water. Joel watched you scrub at one of your eyes and could sense something brewing inside you.

“He knew,” you spat, words harsh several strides ahead. “Motherfucker knew what he was going to do, so he took me to my favorite ice cream place from when I was a kid, talks to me like we’re—we’re good again, then fuckin’—”

You reached the boardwalk leading to the beach. You curtailed your speech just long enough to take a quick, ragged breath, and then you climbed the wooden steps.

“He’s a fucking asshole,” you muttered.

Joel could only see your profile, but at least you’d slowed down. You were maybe four feet ahead, and you had your mouth in a tight line, like words were getting difficult to say. He knew that look. He knew tears weren’t far away.

“And we’re—FUCK!”

At the last, you’d nearly made it all the way to the sand but had gotten your shoe stuck on a crooked part of a plank walking up, and you stumbled. You fell down, hands instinctively flying out to catch yourself.

Joel’s did the same.

As soon as you went down, it seemed, he was right there with you on the ground. If he’d acted a second faster, he might’ve been able to prevent you from hitting the sand at all. Unfortunately, you’d been a little too far ahead of him to make a catch possible. He dropped to his knees beside you, and his hands were reaching again. Grasping.

Holding, and not being nudged off this time. You cursed.

“Fucking sh—” you started, going in for your knee.

“Baby, hey—hey.”

Fear must’ve flashed in his eyes, because the second you met it, you were blinking hard—expression softening the slightest bit in spite of the pain probably shooting up your leg just then. You pulled your knee to your chest, but you let Joel hold it, too. You let out a labored breath.

“You OK? Lemme—” Joel brushed some sand off your leg. “—lemme see it, sweetheart. Just let me see, OK?”

His words were as soft and placating as he could manage it; it was silly, really, since a couple seconds’ inspection of your knee revealed you’d suffered no more than a minuscule scrape from your fall. Still, he leaned in.

And as soon as he reached down for your ankle, checking to make sure you hadn’t twisted it or anything in the process, he heard another sigh. It was softer.

A little more strangled, too, by the sound of it.

“We’re doing the same thing, aren’t we?”

Your voice was small. On hearing it, Joel’s hands stilled in place, and his gaze flitted up to yours. His brow furrowed

“What?”

“Lying,” you said, somehow even quieter. Frowning, but not on account of any pain. “Hiding. Just…just like him.”

Now it was Joel’s turn to soften his expression looking at you—he couldn’t help it. Your face was mottled with a mix of warring thoughts, from anger to fear to shame, and it made his chest hurt. He hated seeing you hurt.

“No. We ain’t like him.” He shook his head.

Your dad destroyed his marriage and upended your life for a love he should’ve fought to keep or left in the past.

You didn’t know that. Joel had only learned the truth the night before, and the story was fraught with so many other deeply personal things, he didn’t think it was his place to share it with you himself. You’d have to hear it from your father when you talked to him, and he knew that that would be soon. You’d already learned part of it.

“We ain’t them, sweetheart. Nothin’ even close to that.” And as he said it, his hand lifted to your cheek. He cupped the side of your face and thumbed at it gently.

You sniffled. You looked like you might jump into his arms and demand a hug, which Joel was more than happy to give, but then you stopped. You had to, shortly.

More footsteps down the way. They thundered fast and loud down the creaky, sunwashed stretch of boardwalk and came clambering to where you and Joel crouched.

Joel’s hand jerked back.

He didn’t want it like that, but he had no choice. Your father’s voice was booming overhead, concern laced in every word as he approached at a lightning-quick pace.

“Honey! Hon—fuck—are you alright?”

Then he was at your side. Reaching for you in that same, urgent way Joel had, only Joel was helping you up. The two of you shared a final look before you turned to him.

You were already waving your father off, “I’m fine, Dad.”

“Did you trip? What happened? Is your ankle alright?”

At least a half-dozen emotions were all flickering over his face at once, like the man couldn’t pick which feeling to stick to, but each one was born of fear, Joel could see.

As a matter of fact, Joel never saw his friend’s features betray such bone-chilling concern than when he happened to be worrying over you. It showed again.

Your father was fretting and fawning for no reason at all—no matter how insistent you were that you just tripped, that’s it, now lay off, Dad, please. It was clear that your admonitions fell on deaf ears, one right after the next. You were persistent, but you got that from him, and he wouldn’t let it go until he’d held you steady in his hands and checked your legs and feet and told you, sweetie, you could’ve hurt yourself. What were you thinkin’?

Running off like that was what he meant, surely.

Joel had to force his gaze away when he saw how earnest your father was on those last couple words. He was stooped a little, bent to match your height, and his eyes were glistening with a paternal apprehension like he’d never seen. It almost seemed too much. Overdone.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

And he wasn’t talking about you taking a spill on the boardwalk anymore, suddenly. His expression softened.

True to your stubborn self—true to being his daughter—you just shook your head and sniffled once. Then you tried to nudge him away again, your movements wooden

“I don’t ca—”

“Can we talk?”

Another sniff. Another step away.

“I don’t wanna talk.” You sounded resolute.

Your dad was even more adamant: “Well, I wanna talk.”

And that made both you and Joel stiffen involuntarily. It wasn’t necessarily the words that he spoke but the way in which they were said; your father’s voice nearly broke.

“We need to talk, pumpkin.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

Something tugged at Joel’s chest that felt like a blade. Your father straightened and cast a look around, eyes scanning the sunny, colorful scenery like he was thinking, and then he quickly reverted his focus to you.

Joel wasn’t sure if his friend’s gaze had missed him on purpose, or if there were something more beneath it.

He was paranoid.

Insane.

“Five minutes. Then I’m going home,” you said coldly.

Whether you meant the house on the beach or the one back in Austin was anyone’s guess. Frankly, Joel was only aware of his surroundings in the vaguest, dullest sense, and the rest of his body was buzzing. He couldn’t stop blinking, fearing what was coming next for you both

A breath got lodged in his throat and he almost choked when your father turned his way, at length. He coughed.

“Miller, you—”

Fuck, this was it. The end.

Your father paused to cough, too, though this time, it looked natural. He appeared to be clearing his throat.

“—mind giving us a minute? Shouldn’t be too long.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Sure thing, man.”

Shouldn’t be too long.

This was the last thought ringing through his skull as he turned to leave. He couldn’t bear to meet your look for longer than a second, for fear that your father might change his mind and suddenly out you both for fucking each other’s brains out these last three months. That would be horrific, and Joel wasn’t about to test his luck.

From what he could glean from your expression in the glimpse he got, you were feeling about the same as him.

Your voice was small—and growing more faint as he started to walk off from the way you two first came.

Down the boardwalk, haunting him all the way back:

“So what do we need to talk about, Dad?”

Your head hurt.

The talk ended up taking more than five minutes.

At the start of that conversation, you swore you’d tell your dad to fuck off and then head back to Austin before he could even utter the name ‘Helen,’ but here you were.

Staring blankly at a wall recalling every last minute detail of the exchange, hours later, and wondering what the fuck any of it meant. Freshly showered and splayed out over the front of a big, familiar frame and inhaling his scent. Laying with your head on his chest and your cheek growing hotter the longer it stayed in place.

You blinked and wanted to forget everything.

A hand stroked up and down your back, moving slowly.

“Your dad loves you, sweet pea. More’n anything.”

Joel murmured that into your hair, then kissed the crown of your head. Instead of giving you a good, warm feeling or making goosebumps break out across your skin, the gesture hardly registered. You could only stare harder at the wall beside the bed and recognize how numb you felt

“Even though I basically ruined his life,” you replied dully.

“Hey.”

Your head was nudged to turn up to Joel’s. Reluctantly, your chin came to rest on his chest, and at the same time, you felt two broad palms cup the sides of your face.

Joel’s eyes pierced you with a marked, solemn sincerity.

“Don’t say that,” he rasped.

“It’s true. I wrecked everything.”

“You didn’t wreck a single damn—”

“He doesn’t even know if I’m his daughter, Joel!”

Those words were spoken with an even harsher edge. Louder, like they needed to get out. You shifted a little.

“How the fuck am I not supposed to feel guilty when my being born was the only reason he chose to stay with my mom at all, and then it turns out, he might not even b—”

It was too ugly to say aloud. It was too foul, too shameful, too fucking gut-wrenching to think that your very existence was the reason for another’s unhappiness—and that that whole premise might’ve been built on a lie. Stupidly, you scrubbed at your cheek and pushed to sit, like the act and the new posturing might make the chances of you breaking down crying any less likely.

Joel sat up with you.

His arms wrapped around you, and you didn’t have the strength to push him off or tell him you were fine, really.

Shoulders sagging, you simply leaned in and buried your face in the crook of his neck. You let him hold you close.

“‘S’alright, sweet girl,” Joel cooed. Stroking your hair like he’d last done running his hand up and down your back. “He’s still your dad. You’ll always be his, no matter what.”

At that, the first crack in your exterior gave way.

You didn’t mean for it to happen, but a sob racked through you, and your body melted into Joel’s bigger one. Your numbness fled, and it left you feeling raw.

Needy.

Clinging to the old, heather gray shirt your boyfriend had on and hoping that your tears wouldn’t soak the material.

Carefully, Joel slid up the bed with you tucked snugly in his arms, and he leaned back into the headboard. He let you cry, probably because it felt appropriate, and also because he loved you more than words could express.

For some reason, that made you want to cry even harder.

Joel continued to stroke your hair and murmur sweet nothings in your ear, and the pit of unease in your stomach grew more and more painful as he did.

You fisted his shirt fully in one hand and wept. After some seconds or minutes passed, you could hardly decipher what had brought you to tears in the first place, but you knew what kept you there—what made you want to curl up in a ball and sob your eyes dry on the spot.

There were words sticking to your throat, begging to claw out, so in the next second, you ended up blurting:

“I don’t—I don’t wanna be like him, Joel.”

The sound was a little muffled against Joel’s neck, but it must’ve reached his ears all the same, because suddenly he was shifting the slightest bit and drawing back gently.

“Wh—”

“I don’t wanna lie like him. Keep…fucking things up.”

“Sweet pea, I promise you’re not—”

“I don’t wanna lose you.” And your voice was alarmingly steady, despite the tears you’d shed and the uncertainty you felt; you didn’t know how things would go with your dad, and neither did Joel. “I— I just love you so much.”

Hell, you might’ve heard his heart splinter at that.

You might’ve seen his throat work and his eyes glisten and the same feeling you’d expressed in words flood his features in a look—that he didn’t want to keep hiding this—but you also wouldn’t see it for long. Joel kissed you.

His lips crushed yours at first, the force of it so strong that it almost knocked you off balance. Sharp, gray stubble, parted lips, probing tongue, searching hands, and a rich, woodsy smell all overwhelmed you at once.

It wasn’t a question of if you kissed back but whether you could keep up, and you could feel it in every breath.

“I love you, baby,” Joel groaned against your lips, as if pained. “More than you know—I love you. I love you.”

This quiet refrain continued well into the kiss, as he laid you down and crawled over your frame. You melted beneath him. Your legs fastened themselves tightly about his hips, and you brought Joel in—welcoming him.

It wasn’t an altogether uncommon thing to be meeting each other with such urgency and need—in fact, these days, it seemed to be your favorite way to approach sex—but here, in your family beach house, on the brink of sharing something new and terrifying and unable to be walked back with your dad, you grew doubly restless. Your fingers threaded messily through his hair, and you tugged those soft, salt-and-pepper locks like your life depended on it. You opened your mouth wider and whimpered into the kiss; Joel ground himself into you.

“T—Tommy. And Maria?” you managed breathlessly, in between kisses and feeling Joel’s tongue explore every crevice of your mouth. Trying not to lose all your sense. You wanted to make sure the house was totally empty.

“Dinner. Probably—” And Joel had to stop himself just long enough to fight a chuckle, though a smirk remained. “Probably makin’ babies afterward, if I’d had to guess.”

“Yeah? That serious?”

“He plans on marryin’ her.”

“Never pegged him as the marrying kind.”

“Well, when you find the woman you want forever.”

As Joel said it, his gaze flitted from your lips to your eyes. You weren’t in a state to even attempt to decipher that look, so you didn’t. You leaned in and kissed him instead.

He tasted like wanting and something more. He moved his mouth over yours like his oxygen supply had come from your lips and tongue, and the rest of him was captive to your every other touch. You moved, and he followed. When you drew back to try and catch your breath, Joel swallowed and watched you just as closely.

“Dad should be out a few more hours,” you added, soft.

Joel didn’t speak, though his gaze trailed your body as you started peeling off clothes, beginning with your top.

He undressed quicker despite not being able to take his eyes off your body the whole time, and you felt need burrow even deeper inside you. The room got warmer.

The two of you were stripped down in a matter of seconds, and still, the temperatures seemed only to have increased and left you basking in a scorching heat. There was familiarity and ease, having done this so many times before, but nothing could ever really prepare you for when Joel spread your legs and slotted himself between them. There was his bare skin on yours, absurd amounts of warmth, and your head resting gently on a pillow, peering up at the man with wide and excited eyes.

Joel’s hand reached between your thighs, and your expression only brightened with the movement of it.

You canted your hips upward at just the right moment.

Joel sucked in a breath. Blinked hard, as if remembering.

“Honey…” His voice tapered off with just one, lone word.

You were glad he hadn’t completely forgotten, and you didn’t miss the way his length twitched against your hip. He liked what he felt, evidently. His fingertips had grazed the little jewel notched into your back entrance, and he was reminded, in no uncertain terms, that you wanted it.

You wanted him there.

Needed him, you hoped he knew.

Joel already had the pad of his thumb pressed up against it, and he was starting to stroke it. Considering.

“Want me to…keep this in while I fuck her?” He lifted his knuckles to brush the seam of your cunt—the ‘her’ in question, obviously—and when he did that, a shudder coursed through you. Your walls clenched around nothing, and more warmth trickled out of you.

All but blinded with desire, you still managed to get out:

“No. Want you to fuck me in there, Joel. Please.”

It was a borderline obscene request, but you didn’t care. He knew this was what you’d been wanting him to do, and so long as he was on board, you hoped it would happen. You ached to feel his cock someplace new. Claim you in a way he hadn’t gotten to do before.

When it seemed a warning might not be far from Joel’s tongue, you rejoined with equal warmth, even needier.

Lifting your hips again and digging your heels into the soft, white comforter beneath, saying, ‘Daddy, please.’

Joel was as good as sold hearing that, if you’d had to guess, but you went even further to seal the deal for yourself. Reaching down and touching the plug, pulling on it, gently, all while your gaze remained plastered on his. A soft whimper slipped past your lips when you did.

“Help me get it out, Joel. Wanna feel you—”

“Shit,” Joel panted. Shortly gritting his teeth.

At a glance, it seemed the man was primed to drop face-level with where you were currently playing with yourself. Maybe lick a stripe up your wet, aching slit and then tease the toy out with his fingers just like you wanted.

To your shock and dismay, Joel stood up from the bed.

Your body lurched with confusion at first; another whine might’ve escaped. Your mind was a wild and wanton place in that moment, filled to the brim with ideas of your father’s best friend having you any way he wanted. The thought that he might be planning to tease you now, or leave you hanging in this terrible, tireless deprivation altogether, was almost more than you could bear. You pushed to sit, eyes widening and lips about to protest.

Joel nudged you back down.

He turned and opened the top drawer of the nightstand.

Then, before another moment could clue you into what was going on or what Joel might be trying to do with the item he’d pulled out, you felt it: a hum between your legs.

A mechanical buzz and a palm pressing to your hip.

Joel ducked his head just in time to catch your lips in a kiss, soaking up the startled sound that had been quick to claw out. You couldn’t help it, of course—whenever Joel took a vibrator to your clit, you were putty under him

Joel also knew you loved the feeling, so he kept it there.

He kept his mouth pressed to yours through the initial shock of it, swallowing a moan or two, but then, almost as quick as he’d stunned you with the buzzing vibration, he pulled back. He waited until your eyes re-focused and your lips were trembling lightly, dying to whimper or groan or tell him, as best you could, that you needed him to push inside you, now, now, now, before he spoke.

“She’s already drippin’ for me, baby,” Joel said, near- mournful. Rolling the vibrator between forefinger and thumb and causing a shockwave of pleasure to course through you. Teasing up and down the slick, puffy seam. “So wet and needy, wantin’ to get stuffed full’a me. Be a real shame if I neglected my sweet girl now, wouldn’t it?”

It was true, your cunt needed him just as badly, and your walls were fluttering and aching with every twist of the vibrator’s tip on your sensitive little bundle of nerves.

Still, when Joel flipped you, sliding a pillow under your hips, you felt that urge for something more. Your back arched mindlessly, and you clutched the sheets tighter.

“Just—just give her a kiss,” you stuttered into the bed.

“Just a kiss?” Joel repeated, hands gripping your hips and lifting you toward him. If you’d had to guess, his face was hovering somewhere close, wearing a conceited grin

Then you knew that it was; his lips connected with your throbbing, glistening folds from behind, and his hold tightened. Sharp stubble—all mostly silver—tickled your thighs, and after that, a soft wet pop graced your ears.

Then a chuckle.

“How ‘bout a couple more?” he drawled out, teasing.

“Just fuck me, please.” You wriggled helplessly.

And you thought, as needy and visibly aroused as you were, Joel might oblige. He could extract that little jewel without issue, slick himself up with lube and plunge in. Simple as that. You arched your back again, higher now, and you begged him with every movement, every breath you were drawing in and exhaling, that you wanted this.

Joel kissed you again.

He pressed his lips to that shiny, wet place and sank in. Spread your cheeks with his hands, parted your folds with his tongue, and mapped the whole, weeping expanse of your cunt with that one, curious muscle.

Joel had gone down on you plenty of times before and every instance, without fail, had left you a writhing, whimpering mess—sometimes in a puddle of your making—but this was different. The feeling was new.

This sweet, gentle man was eating you from the back, and every muscle in your body was starting to contract.

Chin pressed firmly to the pillow and eyes staring, unblinking, at the headboard, you stuttered again:

“P—Please fuck me, Joel. Fuck me anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

“Yes.”

“In the ass?”

At the same time, Joel pressed the still-buzzing vibrator to your clit again and started licking into your entrance.

“Yes!” you cried, fingers twisting the covers and squeezing. “Please—please fuck my ass, daddy.”

You sincerely hoped Tommy and Maria wouldn’t be home at all tonight. If your dad came home, well…you might cry

You were about to sob, feeling Joel’s tongue push an inch inside your needy cunt and start stroking gently.

“I—” Joel had to pull back after just a few licks to reply. “Can’t fuck you there til you’re good an’ ready, baby. Gonna hurt you if I don’t. ‘S’alot to fit. Needs prep.”

Fuck prep.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you huffed defiantly.

Just as you started to curve your spine higher, a wordless invitation for him to go ahead and try it, please, a palm came to rest on the small of your back, gently.

“Sweet pea, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Those words from Joel sounded serious. You turned your head to the side, eyes catching the soft brown irises awaiting you from behind, and you understood it.

You understood him, now leaning back on his heels.

This was a brand new frontier for you both. Not only being here, doing this, but preparing for something else. For a moment, you were transported back to your old troubles from before, and neither of you needed to articulate in words just what that was going to be, as it hung in the air between you with every breath, presently.

It felt like losing your virginity. Taking a new step. Although you knew that nothing would fundamentally change in what you and Joel had, it was still frightening. You turned around to find Joel still on his knees, thinking

Worrying what your father might say to him, probably.

“Come here,” you said, legs spreading wider.

You had ample support in the wall of pillows and cushions behind you, so when Joel crawled eagerly, and draped his body completely over you, you could hold him without struggling too much. You pulled him even closer.

And, with his head on your chest and your fingers combing affectionately through the black and gray strands, you did what felt most normal in the moment.

You told him you loved him, just like he’d told you before.

Joel’s body responded in kind, the way it always did.

It wasn’t lost on you that neither you nor Joel had ever been in a relationship serious enough to use those words, so whenever you said them now, they felt weightier. Particularly after spending so long trying to suppress those feelings, it seemed like you couldn’t get enough. Joel couldn’t control how much it affected him.

For one thing, he was hard as steel against your leg.

For another, his grip tightened protectively over your hip.

Instead of saying ‘I love you’ back immediately, he sat up and tilted his head to meet your gaze. Propped himself up on an elbow and adjusted his body between your legs.

Joel was warm. Broad. Muscular and thick through every inch of his frame, and his length was pulsing gently against your lower belly. His tip was probably leaking.

“Say that again.” It was an order, but nothing harsh.

You knew he was desperate to hear you, not merely asking you to obey, and, shortly, his hand lowered to his cock. He fisted it in a suffocating grip and squeezed it.

“Go on, sweet pea.”

“I love you, Joel.”

Then a tug on your shiny blue jewel. With his free hand, Joel gave it a pull, and he watched you squirm a little.

Still fisting his cock and starting to stroke, he said:

“Again.”

A beat. Another soft tug.

“Push when I pull on it, OK, baby?”

You nodded, not wanting to waste a second.

“OK. Joel…I-I love you so mu—oh.”

You were breathing in through your nose, bearing down like Joel had told you, and then, all at once, you felt a pop

“Don’t move, sweetheart. It’s OK.”

‘S’alright, darlin’, it’s just gonna feel a little different now, rang clear as anything through your ears, and you had to suck in a breath. Damn clueless and stupid as you felt, you hadn’t realized it would be so…weird coming out

Maybe it was best if you took this slow, like Joel said.

Before any real sting could settle in, though, something sticky and cool was being smeared between your legs.

You looked down and saw Joel using his thumb to stroke the raw, slightly stretched spot and soothe the muscle. His touch was tender and easy. Your heels dug a little deeper in the bed, there on either side of Joel’s body, and for a moment, you felt strangely, sorely exposed.

You were, after all, but that was what you wanted, right?

Another sharp breath rattled your chest—Joel’s thumb had notched inside, no deeper than a quarter-inch—and your feet slid reflexively again. Your legs tried to clamp.

Joel kept you open to him, thumb working in circles. Then, likely sensing your discomfort, he scooted closer.

His gaze flickered to find yours, and his look was soft.

“One word and we stop,” he said. “You got it?”

That voice was a little stern, trying to evoke some sense of austerity, but it was an altogether kind tone anyway—you knew Joel just wanted you to be completely safe.

You nodded.

Joel smiled.

“Now tell me again,” he murmured, eyes shining.

You’d nearly forgotten what the two of you had been doing just a few moments ago, but then it hit you. At the same time, while you opened your mouth to speak, one thick, lubricated finger replaced the thumb pressing in.

Joel’s index teased a little, then sank in an inch.

He withdrew, before plunging it back in gently.

Your muscles instinctively contracted around him, and while you did, as if from another reflex, you rushed out:

“I love you, Joel.”

And you did.

The man was eyeing you hungrily, but still with a reverence and a respect all the same. It pained him not to speak those three words back, but he was refraining from saying it so he could focus on working you open. He knew that as long as the anticipation was building, while you were aching to have more of him and growing more needy each second, he’d have an easier time at it.

Instead of talking immediately, he slid a pillow under your hips like he did before and drew close enough to where he could lay down beside you. He got more lube. He plumbed his finger in delicately, watching your face for any sign of discomfort or pain, and when you gradually relaxed into it, he grabbed the bottle of lubricant again.

Wet and slippery as everything was, you still couldn’t help but wince when Joel added a finger—his were thick.

No sooner had your features screwed up than Joel was kissing the top of your head, halting the motion of his digits momentarily, and then grabbing more lube. Again.

“This OK?” he murmured, coating his two fingers.

“I—I think. It’s just…tight,” you answered quietly.

Joel kissed you again, this time on your temple, and his index and middle fingers moved as slow as anything to work your entrance a little more. He was drenching it.

Lathering it with as much slick, artificial help as he could

“I know it’s hard, but try to relax. It’ll feel better that way.”

Joel had a perfect voice for coaching. He wasn’t pushy or gruff, agitated or in a hurry to get you someplace you weren’t quite ready to go. He let your body guide his touch, and he didn’t push for a third finger until you’d visibly gotten your bearings. When you were leaning in.

It started to feel good.

The push, the strain, the stretch. Joel’s never-ending words of encouragement as you fit him inside this narrow and unfamiliar channel. He kissed you more. Groaned into your skin. Said you were doing so fuckin’ good for him, and he couldn’t wait to make you feel better with his cock. You believed him. You wanted it.

And when, after several minutes, a third finger did make its way inside you and you really felt a stretch, you nearly bit clean through your bottom lip trying to stifle the moan that pushed out of your throat. Your head fell to Joel’s shoulder, and your breaths picked up a little more.

You weren’t even really aware when you said it, but then it came out of you all at once, face buried in Joel’s neck:

“Y-Y-You love me, too, right?”

It sounded uncharacteristically meek and almost pitiful to your ears—of course you knew he loved you, why ask?

But before you could chastise yourself, or even think twice about having said it, a warmth enveloped you.

Joel enveloped you, his free arm snaking down your side.

The big, muscular, protective and tender-hearted man with your pleasure in his hands nudged your cheek softly.

He wanted you to look up at him.

And when you did, your worries trickled away.

Or, at the very least, they took a backseat for the time being; Joel was meeting your gaze with the single most kind and loving look he might’ve ever imparted. Mixed in that expression was a tincture of guilt, you could see, like he was sorry not to have made this clearer to you sooner.

He blinked once, then resumed:

“As long as I live, sweet pea.”

And if that wasn’t enough, or else because he wanted to communicate it on your terms, with your needs in mind:

“As long as you’ll have me, and then some. I’m all yours.”

If three of Joel Miller’s fingers weren’t currently buried to the hilt inside you and stretching you wide open for him, you might’ve jumped the man. Hugged him. Squeezed him to your body as tight as you possibly could and assured him that you were his as much as he was yours and you’d never get tired of this, ever, you would have done that. Your eyes likely said as much, growing glossy.

Feeling a lump in your throat, you had only to turn into Joel’s body and try to get the words out, soft and hoarse.

“I love you, Joel. So much.”

Moving closer, though your bodies were practically flush with each other—but Joel didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, a grin just graced his features as he peered down at you. He pushed his nose to yours, and you grinned back.

“I love you more,” he said, not peeling his eyes away.

Before you could even try to reply, ‘Well, I love you most’ like some silly, lovesick puppy, Joel had you beat. He slipped his fingers out carefully from you and shifted in bed, to then overtake your frame and hover above it.

He dropped a kiss on your head, still smiling like an idiot.

“And I’ll love you most, ‘til my lungs give out, alright?”

“You better not be lyin’ to me.” You said it teasingly.

And Joel was just about to answer for himself when the sound of the front door swinging open downstairs interrupted you both. Noisy footsteps followed after, and in a second, you recognized the clamor as belonging to Joel’s brother and his girlfriend. Both were laughing.

The weight of Joel’s body pressed even heavier to yours.

He wasn’t stiff, for once, likely because you didn’t have to hide from those two anymore. And he’d locked the door.

“I ain’t lyin’, baby, swear on my life…” he went on softly.

Now his lips were at your ear, grazing your cheek, lowering toward the hinge of your jaw at a maddening pace. He didn’t seem to pay it any mind when Tommy and Maria went bounding up the stairs and retired directly into the bedroom next to his; he was busy.

You’d almost forgotten you were about to fuck.

With any luck, the couple next door wouldn’t be doing anything like it—or at least keeping their activities quiet.

“Get ready to hear some bullshit,” Joel supplied shortly. His face was buried in your neck, as if annoyed, but you could feel his smirk. “Probably makin’ babies right n—”

“So are we,” you hissed indignantly.

“Last I checked that can’t happen in your ass, sweeth—”

“Joel Miller.”

Technically, he was right.

“Less talking, more fucking, OK?” you added swiftly.

“Yes ma’am.”

Then he did.

It took more than a couple seconds for the levity and amusement of the moment to die down between you, but eventually, you both settled down. You got calmer.

You were reminded that the insides of your thighs and cheeks were completely smeared with lubrication, your walls were fairly well-stretched, and you were ready for it.

You were ready for Joel, and Joel was ready for you—or as close as he could possibly get while checking in to make sure that you really wanted to do this. He angled his cock and brushed the tip through your slick-drenched folds. Above you, his stomach muscles clenched, and you couldn’t help but admire the way his thick, soft middle looked in the glow of the lamplight. How the smooth and veiny member jutting out from a shock of dark curls looked absolutely delectable. Your bodies were almost connected, but not quite. He was hovering.

Gently, your legs beckoned Joel in. They spread wider.

Not even really knowing what you were doing or how you planned to fit all of this man from root to tip inside you, your gaze focused on the place Joel was lowering to.

The head of his cock nudged that tiny ring of muscles, and you sucked in a startled breath. You hadn’t meant to.

Next door, you could hear the Star Wars theme song—Tommy and Maria must’ve been watching the new Mandalorian movie, curled up snug in bed together.

Seeing your face, Joel hesitated. “Baby, we don’t hav—”

“I want to,” you said, breathlessly. Then you looked up. “Want you to have every part of me, even if…if it hurts.”

Joel didn’t seem too crazy about that last part, and he blinked back slowly. He braced a hand beside you on the pillow and used the other to grasp the base of his cock.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead again.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you,” he said softly.

You knew it wouldn’t be the easiest to keep that promise—at a minimum, discomfort seemed almost a given—but of course, Joel managed it remarkably. It was like he understood your body better than you ever had yourself.

The first push of his hips got him no more than half an inch, but the feeling was fine. He’d applied more lube, moved as slow as he possibly could, and grabbed your toy, which had been tossed to the side on the bed. He turned it back on, and, while notching in the head of his bare, slippery cock, he pressed it to your clit. You jolted more than a little at the buzzing—and you focused on it.

You weren’t even thinking of the stretch, as the sensation blended with the pleasurable vibrations between your legs, and you visibly relaxed. Your muscles softened.

Thanks to that, Joel was able to glide in another half inch, and his tip fit snugly inside you. It didn’t hurt.

In fact, it actually felt pretty…nice.

Tight.

Strange.

But also very, very right. Like you’d unlocked some secret bliss, and Joel was guiding you through it.

The buzzing struck you in just the right spot, and that only amplified the feeling as Joel pushed even further.

“See?” he murmured, voice the slightest bit strained. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya, sweet pea. Lean into that feeling.”

Another minuscule slide, another tight smile from Joel.

He was really trying not to go too fast, or cause pain.

“Just…relax f’me. Let me in,” he coaxed you gently.

You tried. And it almost felt like you were losing your virginity all over again, so odd and unfamiliar and new was this pushing, pulling, contracting, and tightening, the last of which couldn’t seem to have been helped.

You were giving him something in a way, though an uncharted physical boundary wasn’t all that it was.

Joel met your gaze, and he clearly felt it, too.

“I love you,” he said, nose brushing yours.

I love you, I love you, I love you, he seemed to say with every strange, painstaking inch. You accepted him, and you drew in a labored breath, lips parting to say it back.

“I lo—oh fuck.” Your words tapered off in a moan.

Joel was down to the hilt, completely sheathed.

Your muscles clenched one more time, and—

“Damn. Oh, shit. Fuck. Fuck, I-I love you.”

Your arms snaked around Joel’s neck, and you held on tight. You gripped him even tighter below, and your eyes trailed down, momentarily, to see how he’d made this fit.

Joel chuckled.

“Like how we look?”

“I love it,” you panted back. “I love having you here.”

And really, you’d never seen a sight more mind-numbing—whenever Joel was inside, balls deep and filling you up to the brim, you got lightheaded just watching him—and knowing how close you were, physically and emotionally, made it even better. Joel looked down with you and stroked the back of your neck. He helped tilt your head.

“Where?” he said. Teasing. “Where’s daddy, baby?”

And shit was he smug. Handsome as anything.

You knew just as well as him what kind of effect your words would have when next you told him, tone soft:

“In my ass. Feels—feels so good, daddy.”

Acknowledging the fact alone was enough to make your breath hitch, and Joel’s cock to twitch inside you as he let out a groan. He drew back, just an inch, and both of you grunted with the friction. You clung tighter to Joel.

“Fuck me now,” you begged him. “Please, daddy.”

Maybe you weren’t ready. Maybe you were still getting accustomed to the stretch and the sting and the weight of Joel Miller’s broad, warm body pressing into you then, but at that moment, you didn’t care for perfect timing. You didn’t need it to be ‘right’—you just wanted Joel a panting, groaning mess above you while he worked himself in and out of you, repeatedly. You wanted more.

“Gonna cum if I move too fast,” Joel confessed, sheepish

“That’s alright. I’m close, too.” And it was the truth.

“Yeah? Y’like gettin’ this ass fucked that much?”

Of course you did. Clearly, you liked it a lot.

You nodded your head, and you held onto Joel’s gaze. He didn’t waste another second drawing out, almost to the tip, then plunging back in. And again, again, and again.

You couldn’t lie—it burned a little. It felt like Joel’s girth was searing a hole inside you, stretching you tight and leaving you sore, over and over and over with his thrusts.

Still, you liked it.

You loved the pain in a way that wasn’t really hurtful—you just enjoyed how Joel’s cock was invading you, breaking you in and making you his like nobody had.

And Joel liked it, too. His movements seemed to have taken on a more possessive edge as he fucked you into the mattress, bed shaking with every punch of his hips.

“This all mine?” he mumbled against your lips, panting.

Another stroke. Another crash of wood to the wall.

“All yours,” you repeated back. Voice cracking.

Your legs were wound tight around Joel’s lower half, and true to how you two normally had sex, the eye contact was constant. Your faces were inches apart, and Joel’s expression was strained. He swallowed, watching you.

“Ain’t—ain’t nobody else for me but you, baby,” he said, while his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat and a fine dusting of gray stubble shifted with it. Muscles tensed.

You knew he wanted to say more. Then a door opened.

Thank fuck it wasn’t yours.

Still, you jumped.

You and Joel froze in place as the sound of footsteps echoed in the room directly beside yours—not Tommy and Maria’s, but your father’s bedroom on the other side. Time seemed to speed up and slow at once, and then the door that had opened in the other room slammed closed.

Through the wall, you could hear your dad groan.

Joel’s eyes met yours, and he blinked once.

‘Well…fuck’ that look seemed to say.

You hadn’t been expecting your father back for another hour at least. This, paired with the fact that the man was probably buzzed from whatever outing he’d taken with Helen and keen to stay up, made you nervous. Of course, you and Joel had been banging in secret for ages, but…

“Keep goin’.” It tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop it. Your heels dug deeper where they were planted, and the once-sharp stinging between your legs had ebbed to something more like a dull, tender throb.

Joel’s eyes shone above you.

Then, like he always loved saying: “Yes ma’am.”

He fucked you softer this time—most likely to keep the headboard from screaming—but with as much purpose. His thrusts succeeded at a steady rhythm, and his chest pressed closer to yours; his body weight draped over you

Your ankles locked behind his back, and you drew him even nearer, not wanting to miss one moment of this.

At the same time, a bed frame squeaked with someone’s weight dropping onto it. Again, it wasn’t your bed at all.

It was your dad’s.

He was in the room next door, and of course, his king-sized bed was pressed directly against the wall where Joel’s was positioned on the other side. Your father budged an inch, and you could hear it clear as day.

The walls were paper thin. What if that meant—

“Gotta be quiet,” Joel said through his teeth.

You were both so close to the edge that you were a mess of trembling limbs on the bed; Joel was panting, sweating, telling you over and over again how good you felt, how perfect you fit him, how nice it was going to be to feel you squeezing around him soon, and would you be able to control those pretty moans when you came?

“Gonna scream and let him hear? Have dear old dad come bargin’ in, see what I’m doin’ to his precious girl?”

Oh, fuck.

It was one of the worst things to imagine, you both knew. The thought of your dad catching you in the act, after everything you and Joel had done to keep this under wraps, well…it was nothing short of nightmare fuel.

As a matter of fact, it was horrifying.

It also pushed you both to the brink of climax, trying harder than anything to keep your sounds confined to strangled breaths, your movements to the quickest, quietest bursts, and your words no louder than whispers.

“What? Like finishing in my ass?” you taunted him, low.

Joel groaned. He probably shouldn’t have.

“Gonna let me, sweet pea?”

“Yes, daddy.”

Those two little words were all it took, for either of you.

It seemed like the sound of it was all you needed to hit your peak, and before you knew it, a coil was coming undone; a dam was breaking, and suddenly, shortly, a series of pulses and a rush of hot blood in your head was all you could feel. And then a wetness, spreading deep.

Shooting into the furthest recesses of your body while you fell apart beneath him, Joel’s heat was scorching and soft. It flooded your insides in thick, white ropes.

You wanted to scream with how good it felt. Joel’s expression above you was suffused with just as much pleasure—and pain, trying to contain it—and at the same time tiny dots started to flood your vision, the man’s words were a quiet, constant refrain for almost all of it.

“I love you, darlin’. Always, always gonna—”

“—love you,” you finished for him. “I love you, Joel.”

You might’ve said it fifteen times that night, and it still didn’t feel like it was enough. Your bodies were damp with sweat pressed together, and Joel’s eyes were flitting between yours, searching. In between breaths and lightly peppered kisses, you could tell that he was thinking hard.

You could hear your father cough in the next room over.

There was no better time to say it. As sore and satisfied as you were, as soft as Joel’s lips were grazing yours to soothe them, and as terrified as you both were for what was to come soon enough, the words just tumbled out.

“I’m ready to tell him, Joel,” you whispered.

A beat passed, and Joel blinked.

Then, slowly, a smile crept in.

“Y’mean it, sweetheart?”

“I mean it. Tomorrow.”

Mark never claimed to be a good father.

In fact, from the first moment he held you in his arms, on the day that you were born, he was almost certain he’d be the shittiest dad there ever was—holding a baby so perfect and sweet, how could he possibly deserve you?

He didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t, and still, he’d decided just as fast that that didn’t matter, because he would be trying his damn hardest to act like the kind of father you needed to have. You were his entire world, and he’d told you as much all throughout your childhood and beyond.

He should’ve seen Joel coming a mile away.

He hadn’t wanted to believe it the first time.

It might’ve been in a glance he’d caught this fall when Joel thought he wasn’t looking—watching you, and smiling so big that his cheeks probably hurt him a little after—and then the sound of his laughter around you.

It had been easy to chalk it up to superficial attraction, seeing as you were a beautiful young woman. Mark told himself that those kinds of feelings always faded in time.

Then they didn’t.

Mark could say your name aloud once, and you’d think someone had just told Joel he’d won the lottery; that was how his eyes would always light up. Of course, the man would quickly try and snuff it out the second his expression was set ablaze, but Mark caught it.

It might last an instant or five, but he always caught it.

Joel hadn’t batted an eye at the bachelorettes practically throwing themselves at him at the bar the other night. Hadn’t cast a look their way or even attempted to entertain their antics, all while nursing a drink and looking mad as shit. Mark had teased him. Told him he oughta get laid, chase a little tail—put himself out there.

Probably without meaning to, his best friend had given him a look like he was out of his fucking mind to say it.

It was in that moment that Mark realized he had a much bigger problem on his hands than the one he’d expected.

Joel didn’t just have a crush.

He was almost certainly infatuated.

What was worse, it wasn’t just attraction that had him.

What caused Joel’s face to flush each time your name was mentioned, his expression to flare with indignation at the mere idea of being with someone else, and his eyes to nearly pop out of his skull when Mark told him that Tommy might be his daughter’s biological father—complete bullshit, by the way—was what assured him beyond a shadow of a doubt that Joel Miller was guilty.

Mark had invited him down to the beach to confront him.

Then you’d taken a spill yesterday, and plans changed.

What was originally meant to be a showdown with Joel ended up being a heart-to-heart with you, telling the whole ugly truth about his relationship with your mother, Helen, and the very slight possibility that he wasn’t your father. Before that, though, Joel had rushed to your aid.

Out on the boardwalk, in the middle of a bright and sunny day, as if Mark needed another flashing neon sign telling him, ‘Your best friend is head over heels for your daughter,’ he found the two of you together: Joel crouched beside you, his eyes scanning you in a panic.

That look wasn’t far off from the one Mark had been wearing himself. It made him wonder even worse things.

Was he—

No, he couldn’t.

He didn’t even know you like that.

It couldn’t be that his daughter had reciprocated anyway.

You were a good girl, and there wasn’t a chance in a million years you had the faintest inkling about any of this nonsense—of that much, your father was certain.

Now, strolling down to the same beach in the same clothes he’d had on yesterday because he hadn’t been able to sleep, Mark was deep in thought. It was 7 A.M.

The sun had just begun its ascent in a sky painted tangerine and pink, and the breeze on his skin was soft.

Calming.

Mark knew he’d have to have one of the most soul-draining conversations that day, telling his best friend that his daughter was completely, unequivocally off-limits, and that he never stood a chance with her, ever, and still, he tried to stay optimistic. Tried telling himself that nothing too bad could happen in a place this pretty.

Idly, he scanned the horizon. His eyes roamed everyplace they could, watching the waves make their way to the shore and lap at the sand every other second, gently.

Nothing too bad.

Nothing too terrible.

Nothing a simple, straightforward conversation couldn’t be able to fix, and then things would go back to normal.

Mark’s gaze drifted to the shore. A couple stood at the water’s edge, huddled together, and presently, he took a sip from his travel mug. The coffee’s heat soothed him.

One day, his daughter would find someone her own age.

Someday, Mark hoped, Joel would find his person, too.

His attention shifted from directly in front of him to the tumbler in his hand, and only vaguely was he aware of some far-distant splashing. He read what his mug said.

Emblazoned on the side, in letters a bright yellow shade:

WORLD’S

BEST

DADDY

You’d gotten him that in first or second grade for Father’s Day, if he was remembering correctly. Mark smiled at the memory, recalling how pleased you’d looked handing it over to him. Two gaping holes between your front teeth, grinning like he was the single most important person in the world and your hero, for life.

He’d keep trying to be that guy for you.

No matter what happened, he always would.

Just as old memories began to fade, his gaze lifted.

Still smiling, still reminiscing and trying his best not to worry too much about what was in store for him that day, Mark fixed his focus on the beach out front, and to the happy, laughing couple now chasing each other down it.

The girl stumbled; the guy snapped her up in his arms.

“Daddy, stop!” the former shrieked, giggling.

Then Mark’s face drained of all its blood.

“Daddy, pleeeeease!” you begged for mercy.

There wasn’t a chance you were getting out of this.

You’d defaulted to using your most cloying, affectionate voice with Joel in the hopes of making it out of his grip and not ending up in the ocean, but that seemed unlikely

Impossible, really, as Joel squeezed you tighter to his chest and started stalking toward the water’s edge where waves were hitting the sand and your worst fears were being realized. You squirmed harder in his arms and kicked your feet like you were being dragged to the chair.

“You asked for this, sweet pea,” Joel chuckled softly.

In point of fact, you had. You’d asked him to take you swimming at 7 A.M., just after the sun had started to rise, but on the journey over, you’d changed your mind.

It was chilly as shit, and the water looked uninviting.

You’d thought a quick dip—possibly naked—could’ve been a fun little sidebar in an otherwise nerve-wracking day for you and Joel, but now you just wanted to be back in bed. Under the covers, kissing each other, grinning like two lovesick fools as you planned for the future, maybe…

“Let me go!” you wheezed. “I’ll—I’ll do anything.”

Joel had just made it into the water up to his knees. He was cradling you in his arms, smiling as he peered down.

“Anything?” he repeated.

“Anything!”

In a moment when some dirtier thoughts might’ve been starting to take shape in Joel’s mind, you decided to capitalize on the opportunity: you jumped up. Out.

While Joel was momentarily distracted, you got away from his hold and went stumbling toward the water. Narrowly, you kept your body upright and grinned.

Then, like a crazy person, you dropped to your knees.

It was meant to be a joke, obviously—waves rushing almost to your hips at this depth and a surge of murky, ice-cold ocean water all but chilling you down to the bone—and Joel laughed. He tried not to trip when you yanked him by the swim trunks and tugged his groin closer to your face, and then you were going to stand.

You were freezing your ass off, but you couldn’t resist giving Joel one, teasing wink as you looked up at him.

“I’ll suck your dick right here, real quick, if you—”

“MILLER!”

One word pierced the cool, windy climate like a blade.

What was once quiet and easy all at once became a cacophony in a single sound—your head jerked to it.

Your hands and feet flailed to get you standing back up.

Joel almost fell backward trying to make some space from where you’d just been kneeling in front of him, pretending to blow him at the worst possible moment.

You hadn’t seen it at the time, but now you did.

Your dad was standing on the shoreline, aghast.

No more than ten feet away on the hard-packed sand and staring on in horror, he remained there, motionless. While you regained your bearings and Joel shifted on his feet, probably trying to hide the boner poking up through his swim trunks, it seemed as if your father would never speak. He was so still, eyes wide and jaw hanging slack.

Then the scene changed faster than you could blink.

Your father was a blur of blue and gray, still wearing the jeans and t-shirt he had on the day before, and Joel was stationary. Shirtless. Entirely unprepared for when the former sped forward and, like something out of a nightmare, went for his neck with one, hard hit.

A stainless steel tumbler in the other hand made for an easy weapon; you recognized the shape of it immediately

Just as that travel mug struck the side of Joel’s skull and gave an audible crack, you saw the words fly by in a haze

WORLD’S

BEST

DADDY

DADDY

DADDY

“DADDY!” you screeched as the old, weathered steel came down on Joel’s head a fourth time, unforgiving.

Joel was cowered in the water on his hands and knees, having been knocked off balance with the third full hit, but he wasn’t moving away. Wasn’t fighting his assailant.

As a wave rolled over his frame and soaked his back and shoulders, you saw him lift a hand, and it was trembling.

Not venturing to fend off the blows to his face but rather making a plea of a kind, Joel tilted his head to his friend.

The shock that had had you paralyzed up until that point snapped then. Before you knew what you were doing, you were trudging over in the water, motions graceless.

Your father raised the mug again, and your vision blurred.

You didn’t sound like yourself, screaming: “Stop! Stop!”

The words hardly felt like yours at all, or seemed to have been heard. Your dad did drop the tumbler, but only to yank Joel up by the back of his head and stand over him, threading fingers through wet locks of salt-and-pepper and pulling hard. You saw Joel wince, and at the same time, you realized you were seeing his face on full display

Still crouched down in that frigid ocean, face no higher than a half-foot over the water’s surface, Joel was forced to turn his head to your dad, and the whole left side of it was streaked with blood. Saltwater splashed over his face and seemingly blinded him. The mug must’ve struck Joel right near the temple and torn the skin, because the whole length of his cheek was bleeding.

His head was hardly up for a moment before it was shoved back down, under the water, with brutal force.

This time, you grabbed your dad. Sank nails into his arm.

“Daddy, please. Please don’t hurt him, pl—” you started.

“My fucking daughter?!” your father roared over you.

Joel’s head might’ve been under for a second before it was jerked back up, and you saw him spitting up water.

Your dad was asking a question. It came again.

“My fucking daughter, you fucking—”

And the last part cut out, swiftly.

Joel’s head went under again, and simultaneously, you shoved as hard as you could to get your father off of him.

For a second, you did.

Joel’s head was released, and he resurfaced.

Your father took a hard breath and gritted his teeth.

And, just when you thought he might be reconsidering, or else slowing his attack, he went right back. He lunged for Joel and forced him under the water again, and every nerve-ending in your body seized with fear. Instincts kicked in, and you were about to reach over toward your father in a more demanding push. Maybe yank his shirt, shove him hard, tell him this isn’t Joel’s fault, let him—

“Go,” your dad snarled, pulling Joel back again. “Tell me.”

You expected another hit; maybe a kick to the head.

Instead, your father stunned you then, shouting:

“Are—are you fuckin’ in love with her, Joel?!”

It should’ve been low. Harsh. Threatening. And it was all those things, but underneath it, for the first time, you heard hurt commingled with it. Your dad’s grip tightened in the hair at the nape of Joel’s neck, and he bent down closer. He brought his face within a foot of his friend’s.

Joel, for the first time since he’d been hit, didn’t hesitate.

“I love her.”

As fast as he’d asked, your father kneed him in the face.

Joel’s head jerked back with the force, and at the same time, blood spurted from both nostrils. He blinked hard.

You wanted to strike the man standing over him even harder, and presently, you tried. You stepped up to your dad, about to take hold of his arm and yank it back, when suddenly, sharply, he turned to you. His eyes were ablaze

“And you?” he hissed.

He grabbed Joel again.

You didn’t have to think.

“I love him, daddy, I love him.”

Your father shoved Joel under a fourth time, as if punishing him for your response. Your stomach lurched.

And, in much the same way sheer impulse had guided your last answer, your body moved without considering itself. Your limbs moved of their own volition, and not thinking, it moved closer—this time, not to your father.

You dropped beside Joel.

He resurfaced a second later, sputtering for air.

His face was mottled with blood. Even with a near constant surge of water and being submerged every other instant, the bleeding was profuse. He kept blinking.

And, thanks to all the hits he’d taken, he hardly seemed to see the world in front of him at all. He coughed again.

More blood.

More blinking.

Scarcely conscious at all, he inched closer to you.

Over the lapping of waves, your pulse thudding in your ears, and sobs racking through your chest, you couldn’t hear much at all. Still, you saw his lips move limply then.

“‘M’sorry—”

The sound stopped and started with a strangled breath. One from him to exhale at first, and another to suck in some air while he was able. In the next second, before either one of you could think, his head was forced under.

It was held underwater, hard, by your father.

Tears nearly had you blinded, but you saw it.

Time might’ve slowed a little more, and your sense of seconds and minutes could’ve skewed, but it was still clear as anything to you that your dad was keeping Joel there, unable to breathe, and he refused to move an inch

You blinked, and the body in front of you had gone limp.

In summary:

[nicholasgoodgirl]

on set - nicholas chavez

summary: you came to bring nicholas food on set and he looks too good you gotta help him get off or maybe you're just doing it for yourself.

warning: oral (m receiving), almost caught ig.

a/n: i need this man bad 😩

--

i park my car and get the takeout my boyfriend asked me to get for him while he was on set.

i knocked on his trailer a few times then being met with him, Nicholas i can't lie he looked undeniably good.

a part of me feels bad because he's getting put into character for this role and i liked it. every bit of it.

the way his hair is styled, paired with the old money clothing. he was perfect. "you good?" not sure how long he was trying to get my attention but i just nod and walk into the trailer.

"you gonna be free tonight" i ask. Nicholas sits back down in the chair. "uh i don't think so" he checked the message he was given earlier this morning before coming to work

"yeah, no i won't be free why?" he asks giving me the perfect opportunity to perhaps get a quickie in before he has to actually get on screen again.

i walk up behind him, giving his shoulders a little massage then kissing his neck "I'd really liked if we could do something later" i try hinting to him that i wanted to fuck and im sure he caught on rather slowly than expected but he still did nonetheless.

"at work? what a needy girl" he coaxed. he took my hand in his and brung me infront of him.

nicholas manspreads his legs a bit so i can stand in between them "how bout you get that pretty little mouth to work then"

his cocky tone and the light pat on the side of my thigh; a signal for me to get on my knees sent my need for him through the roof.

i sunk to my knees not breaking eye contact. "this is what you wanted right?" he asked me with a smirk.

i give him a nod. but that wasn't enough for him he brings his thumb to my mouth dragging it across my lips "use your words baby" he cooed

"yeah- yes.. i want to do this." i fumble with his belt buckle, his eyes burning into my skull making me feel intimidated by his gaze.

i get the belt undone and pull his pants down, he lifts his hips a bit to help. "doin' so good already but-" he picks his phone up checking the time "-they're gonna need me in atleast 7 minutes" he places the phone back down.

his hard cock is freed from the confinement of his boxers. i put the head of his cock at my lips, kitty licking the tip before putting my mouth around him.

a low grunt is heard from him encouraging me to sink my mouth down further.

he grabs a handful of my hair and carelessly pushing my head down, i gag on his dick and im quick to remove my mouth off him "stoopp" i whine

"alright im sorry" he takes his hands away from my hair and puts them up surrendering.

a knock on the trailer door followed by a girl telling Nicholas he's needed on set. "5 more minutes!" he yells loud enough for the lady to hear from outside.

nicholas turns back to me and raises his eyebrows "see we don't have much time" he shrugs.

i wrap my mouth around him for the second time, already use to the length reaching the back of my throat.

he allows me to do whatever i please with my mouth; watching me take his length. i swallow around him and nearly choke when he accidentally jerks forward and thrusting down the back of my throat.

"shit.." nicholas drawls out throwing his head back at the feeling.

i change my pace, bobbing my head faster and using my hand to pump whatever i couldn't fit in my mouth. he whimpers softly, i looked up at him, his lips caught between his teeth, cheeks flushed and eyebrows knitted together while his eyes were screwed shut. perfect like i said before

"you're such a good girl f'me y'know that?" i hum in reaponse, the vibration around his cock made him moan loudly.

"sir are you ok?" the lady asked from outside; rattling the doorknob. "fine- just fine!" ,,give me one more minute please"

i swirl my tounge around his tip then using my hand to stroke him till he reaches his orgasm "m' close" he whimpers.

i put my mouth on the head of his cock and let him paint the back of my throat.

i wipe the sides of my mouth and rise from my knees while Nicholas pulls his underwear and pants back up. "lets finish up whenever i get home yeah?" he kisses my head and walks out the trailer.

[verstappenverse]

Everything He Doesn’t Say

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max has never been good with words, but you’ve never once had to doubt how he feels.

Authors Note: Inspired by this amazing piece from @jungwnies 💕

1.3k words / Masterlist

You find the first one in your glove compartment.

It’s early. The sun is barely up and the pit of your stomach still churns with the anxiety of the meeting you’ve been rehearsing for in your head since 4 a.m. You get in your car, toss your bag onto the passenger seat and open the glovebox to grab the parking permit...

A folded square of paper slips out and lands on your lap.

You recognise his handwriting immediately, messy, slanted a little to the left, almost illegible to anyone else. The edges of the note are frayed like it had been sitting in his jeans for a day or two.

You’re going to kill it today. Like always. Proud of you. –M.

You stare at the note for a long moment. He didn’t say anything this morning when he hugged you at the door. Just pulled you in, kissed your forehead, murmured, “Don’t stress, baby,” and then disappeared back into the bedroom.

But this, this is different, like a whisper he wasn’t brave enough to say out loud. You place it gently into the centre console, fingers grazing it one last time before you shift into reverse.

The second one is inside your gym bag.

You find it after a long day, half-asleep and grumpy and rummaging for your water bottle. You nearly miss it, folded between the towel and your sports bra.

It’s short.

Stop forgetting how hot you are. –M.

You snort. A laugh slips out before you can stop it.

Max has never been great with words. Not when it comes to you. Not in the I-love-you-so-much-my-soul-aches kind of way. He says you’re cute, or you smell nice, or stay close tonight, instead, but you’ve come to realise he says a lot more than he lets on.

You tuck the note into your purse beside your ID, where he’ll never know you kept it.

Max is in the kitchen when you get home that night, barefoot, hoodie sleeves pushed up. There’s soup on the stove. A half-burnt piece of bread in the toaster.

“Hey,” he says, glancing up.

“Hey,” you reply, quietly.

You stop when you see what’s sitting on the counter.

Your old phone charger. The one that frayed weeks ago and sparks when you plug it in, the one you keep saying you’ll replace but never have. It’s not just been replaced but upgraded. A newer, longer cable. Still pink. Still tucked into the exact same cable holder you’d been using.

Next to it is your favourite chocolate bar. The one that's hard to find. The one you mentioned in passing weeks ago, "God, I miss those. Haven’t seen them in ages."

You blink. “Where’d you find that?”

He doesn’t even look up. “Petrol station outside of town. You don’t need to thank me.”

You pause, because you were about to. He always says that ‘You don’t need to thank me’ whether it's setting your alarm when you forget, running you a bath without asking, or quietly re-parking your car after you leave it crooked. He doesn’t say it to be dismissive. It’s almost shy, like he doesn’t know what to do when you look at him with full-blown gratitude.

He sets your mug down beside you, your favourite tea with just the right amount of honey.

You look at the counter again pink charger coiled neatly, wrapper waiting.

“You okay?” he asks, voice soft.

“Yeah,” you murmur, reaching for the tea. “Thanks.”

Max doesn’t reply just shakes his head, chuckles and brushes his hand across your lower back. He hands you a bowl and waits for you to sit beside him on the couch, gently tugging the blanket over both your legs.

“I found the note,” you say after a few minutes, voice soft.

He doesn’t look at you. Just spoons soup into his mouth and shrugs. “What note?”

You smile. “The one in my gym bag.”

“Oh.” He blinks like he genuinely forgot. “That was meant for Monday.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, heart stupidly full. “Still worked.”

He never posts about you on Instagram.

It used to sting a little, in the beginning before you understood him, before you stopped comparing him to other people.

Because Max doesn’t care about optics, doesn’t feel the need to declare his love in public or share photos from every date night. He barely remembers to post anything at all unless someone reminds him.

But he does change his lockscreen.

You notice it one night while he’s asleep, phone buzzing softly on the nightstand with some notification he’ll ignore until morning. You pick it up to silence it and catch a glimpse of the photo.

It’s from your trip to Lake Como last summer.

You’re not even looking at the camera, head turned, eyes bright, smiling at something stupid he said. It’s not posed, it’s not perfect, but you look happy.

And he chose that version of you, the soft, unfiltered one.

You place the phone back down without a word and curl closer to his chest, whispering a quiet I love you into the dark.

Sometimes he sends you videos. Random ones.

A goose chasing a guy down a beach. A cat flipping off a countertop. A golden retriever refusing to drop the stick that’s three times its size.

No caption. No context.

It always comes when you’ve been apart too long both of you swamped with work. You’ve learned to read between the lines. It’s never just a meme.

It’s I miss you. It’s Can we talk? It’s I just want to hear your laugh.

You send one back. He replies immediately.

And just like that you’re texting again, heart full.

You walk in on him reading one night.

It’s the same book you’ve been talking about for months, the one you rambled about over dinner, quoting passages like a hopeless romantic.

Max is not a reader. He struggles to sit still unless he’s in a simulator or watching race footage, but there he is, lying on his back, squinting at the tiny print, brow furrowed like he’s concentrating harder than he does in qualifying.

“Max?”

He looks up, startled.

“Are you seriously reading that?”

He shifts awkwardly. “Just wanted to see what it’s about.”

You move toward him slowly, cautiously.

“And?”

“It’s... alright.”

“You hate it.”

“No,” he says too quickly. “It’s just... kinda dramatic... but the girl talks like you. Like, the way she explains stuff. I get it now. Why you like it.”

He flushes and looks back at the page, mumbling. You lean over and kiss the corner of his mouth and hope he understands that this means more than a thousand grand gestures.

Max doesn’t say “I love you” very often.

It’s not that he doesn’t feel it, he just doesn’t know what to do with big, consuming emotions, but he shows it.

In the way he tucks your hair behind your ear when you're too sleepy to do it yourself. In the way he places his hand on your back when you're walking through a crowd. In how he notices when your hands are cold before you do and slips his into yours without a word.

And especially when he drives.

You notice it every single time, how he buckles your seatbelt before his own. Leans over and makes sure it clicks. Tugs it gently to test the tension. Only then does he fasten his own and start the engine.

It’s so automatic now, so ingrained, you don't think he even realises he’s doing it, but you do.

You always do.

One night, months into this quiet, gentle love you’ve built, you find another note.

Tucked into your left sneaker. The old pair you rarely ever wear.

You unfold it and feel your chest tighten.

You make everyday better. –M.

You press the note to your lips, overwhelmed, and decide then and there that maybe he doesn’t need to say “I love you” often, because he’s always saying it in his own way.

In every little thing.

[yuzujjn]

GIVE YOU THE WORLD 𖥔 성훈

𝒂𝒄𝒕𝑜𝑛𝑒𓈒 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖻𝗂𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗋𝖽

❪ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐒 ❫ 𝑙’ bodyguard!sunghoon & princess fem!rea 8OO fluff contemporary romance forbidden relationship 𓂃 skinship kissing ˊᯅˋ click

다니 ⦂⠀for my @jiwuu 💌 i finally posted an individual fic after like 2 months TT && thank you so much for 400 followers on this account

THE ROYAL DINNER IS SUFFOCATING

you sit stiffly at the long polished table, nodding along to your parents' endless talk about alliances, responsibilities, the long, boring future they're so desperate to plan for you.

"you'll be meeting several young men next week," your mother says crisply, dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

"dukes. a few foreign princes. you'll need to make an effort, darling," your father adds.

you stare at your half-finished plate, your jaw locked. an effort. right. you don't want any of them.

you want the boy who's been standing outside this stupid palace for the past hour, waiting for you like he always does.

"i need some air," you say suddenly, pushing your chair back.

your mother's brow twitches. "don't be dramatic."

"i'm not," you say sweetly. "i'm being considerate. before i ruin dinner." your mother's mouth tightens into a line. your father frowns. but after a tense second, he waves his hand.

you slip away from the table, heels clicking sharply on the marble as you move faster. you push open the heavy doors and step into the cool night — and there he is.

sunghoon.

leaning casually against the sleek black car, arms crossed, head tilted just slightly. his black suit is sharp, his tie loose enough to make him look both deadly and devastatingly handsome.

he straightens the second he sees you, a grin tugging at his mouth.

"you look thrilled," he calls lightly.

you roll your eyes as you walk toward him, letting out a long breath. "i'm about two seconds from throwing myself into the fountain."

he laughs under his breath, rounding the car and climbing in after you. the door clicks shut. the world outside fades away.

"where to, m princess?" he teases, starting the engine.

"anywhere but here," you say, kicking off your heels and pulling your knees up onto the seat.

he pulls out of the palace grounds easily, one hand on the wheel, the other intertwined with your fingers.

"you clean up nice, by the way," you say after a beat, pretending to inspect his profile.

he raises an eyebrow, flashing you a sideways look. "nice?"

"yeah. like, seven out of ten." you lean back, smirking. "room for improvement."

he scoffs, "this is the thanks i get? i sit in a car for three hours and you rate me a seven?"

you laugh, tipping your head against the window. "fine. eight. if you buy me coffee."

he shakes his head, muttering, "high maintenance," but you catch the way his mouth curves up anyway.

"so," he continues, finally parking at an empty parking lot, "besides escaping political matchmaking, how else can i make your night better?"

you blink at him, heart skipping. the way he’s looking at you — like he knows exactly what he's doing to you — makes your stomach flip.

you lean closer, tilting your head slightly. "kiss me." his eyebrows shoot up, and for a second he looks genuinely caught off guard.

"what, no please?" he says.

"kiss me, please," you say, rolling your eyes, but your voice comes out soft. maybe a little desperate. he chuckles, before reaching out and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"you’re really bad at being patient," he says.

"and you're really bad at following orders," you shoot back, smiling.

"lucky for you, i’m off-duty right now," he murmurs.

and then he leans in, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world and none of it matters except for this.

your fingers hook onto his tie, tugging him closer until you're almost half in his lap, giggling against his mouth. he kisses you harder in response, one hand sliding along your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

when you finally pull apart, you're both a little breathless, smiling like idiots.

he taps your nose with his finger, playful. "still think i'm an eight?"

you grin. "solid nine. pending if you could kiss me again,."

he laughs, tipping his head back against the seat.

"god, you're trouble," he says, but he sounds absolutely in love with it.

you grin wider, already buckling your seatbelt again. "drive, bodyguard. my standards just went up."

[zevrra]

𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 ⋆˚꩜｡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩: out of all the days for your car to have broken down, leaving you stranded on the side of the road, it had to be the day your dad had just left for a sudden business trip—he was hours away by now and you were just here; stuck. you could call a tow truck but the bill for that was…way out of the budget. so the only other thing you could think of to do was to call your dad’s best friend; joel miller.

a.k.a joel (the sexiest man alive) comes to your rescue and you want to repay him for it.

𝐟𝐭.dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

𝐰𝐜: 7k

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: mdni, no-outbreak!joel, straight smut, no real plot, implied forbidden romance, significant AGE GAP, reader is in their 20s, joel is in his 50s, mention of sarah(30s + no ellie), no use of y/n, joel likes pet names, sexual tension, joel tries to remain morally ‘right’, joel’s a lil insecure if you squint, thigh riding if you squint, dirty talk, handjob (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v (just the tip!), coming onto/between v too.

𝐚/𝐧: FIND PART 2 HERE

You’ve heard more stories about Joel Miller than you had actually seen him in real life; only meeting him one other time in the entirety of the six years he’s been your dad’s best friend. But with no other family and no extra cash to pay for a tow…you prayed that maybe he’d find it in the kindness of his heart to come rescue little ole you. 

Thankfully, your dad had given you his number in a “just in case”, if you ever needed it. Strange how for once your dad was right about something you had swore up and down would never happen. It almost made you smile— and you would if not given the predicament you were in right now.

For a moment, as you sit in your car, with your thumb slightly trembling as it hovers over Joel’s contact name, you silently pray that he’d pick up when a stranger was calling. 

No more time to talk yourself out of it, you press on his name, watching your phone begin to ring at your request. You quickly tap the speaker button, hands clammy as you listen to the dial ring. Your heart is pounding in your chest for some odd reason as the line continues to ring and ring.

You’re just about to give up hope and hang up, so his voicemail doesn’t pick up for you instead, but suddenly you hear the line click and a deep southern voice echoes in from the otherside; “Yeah?” 

You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until you suddenly exhale a deep sigh upon hearing his voice. “Hey!” You blurt out. “You probably don’t have my number saved or anything like that but I’m the daughter of your friend!” 

“Oh,” Joel starts and you can hear him rustling around, as if he’s putting down something he had been working on. “I remember ya. Somethin’ I can help you with sweetheart?” His voice drips with honey and confusion and you can’t blame him. But the tender way he mutters sweetheart has your fingers trembling just that much more. 

“Yes, actually! I’m a little stranded at the moment. See my dad’s outta town for a business trip and my car has broken down so yeah…” You trail off, fiddling with the edge of your phone case while the words ‘I could use some help’ stick to the back of your throat. 

“You need me to come get ya?” Joel’s warm voice breaks the silence, knowing exactly what you couldn’t say seconds before.  

“I mean, that would be awesome if you could! But like, don’t worry about it if you’re busy! I could call a tow truck or something.” You ramble on. And for a second you think maybe you’ve lost service as he doesn’t say anything right away but as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking; he answers you. 

“What road ya on?” Joel asks all soft like, while you can hear some more rustling in the background. 

You glance at the maps on your phone before telling him the road you were on, fingers returning to fiddle with your phone case. “But like again, if you’re too far or busy I can just call a tow!” You mutter as the pit of your stomach does backflips. You’d really hate to inconvenience him but at the same time…with your father gone…and being in seemingly the middle of nowhere…you’d take your chances of annoying him just a little. 

Joel laughs on the other end and it sends a warmth that rivals the summer heat through your entire body. You catch the faint sound of keys jingling on his end before he responds. “No worries hun. I’ll be there in twenty minutes or so.” 

And with that, Joel says his goodbye and the call ends. 

“That went…surprisingly well.” You mutter to yourself as you stretch out along your driver seat. Might as well get comfy while you wait. 

Just as promised, Joel shows up about twenty-five minutes later. He parks an older farm truck right behind you that squeaks as the door opens with his exit. You get out of your own car to greet him and you hate how your stomach returns to doing flips but for an entirely different reason.

Why couldn’t you remember him being so fucking handsome before? His tan skin, the salt and pepper of his hair, the stubble of his jaw. He was broad to say the least; his shoulders and chest wide, and he carried himself like a man in charge. You expect a man as toned and well muscled to be a little mean…but then he smiles upon seeing you and all your fears melt away.

“Howdy,” Joel calls, nice and easy like the breeze, making his way to you. 

You simply nod your head in response, unable to find the words to speak, as he stops in front of you. Your eyes lift just ever so slightly to look up into his eyes and fuck, they had no right to be so pretty shining in the sun like that. 

“Pop the hood for me? Let me see if these old hands can’t figure out what’s gotcha parked here.” Joel light heartedly says. And for some odd reason…you knew that if he asked you for anything in that sweet drawl of his, you’d do it in a heartbeat. 

You ease back into the driver seat of your car, reaching for the little latch that would pop the hood open. At the click, Joel moves to the front of your car while you debate sitting there, waiting to be told what to do. In the end your curiosity gets the better of you as you exit your car again. You move to the front end alongside him, staring at a mass of smooth and twisted metal underneath…not understanding a single thing as you look down at it. 

Joel must see the confusion in your gaze and it makes him laugh just a little. “S’aright hun. You ain’t gotta worry about tryin’ to figure it out.” He hums as his hand reaches forward, twisting off a cap you don’t know the name of. “Unless you wanna?” He teases as he retrieves a long, metal like wand from the depths of the engine. 

You laugh along with him, shaking your head at his question. “No thank you. Maybe next time.” You respond in a light tune, continuing to watch him as he works. 

But you can’t help staring at something other than the engine he works on.

Your eyes graze over the strength of his tan forearms. Noticing right away the scars that linger along his weathered skin. But what you really wanted to see was the muscle of his bicep— hidden underneath that damn teasing denim shirt of his. Wanted so desperately to watch him stretch and his muscles flex as he moved about while working on your car.

Your eyes trail down the rest of his body, where your attention is immediately drawn to his back. Your eyes fixate directly at the point of where his shirt meets his jeans, watching as his shirt lifts with every stretch he makes across the engine. It lifts just enough away from his jeans to allow you to see a little bit of exposed skin underneath it. His sun-kissed skin trailed all the way down his back and the idea of touching his warm body made your fingers twitch. 

“Well your oil is fine but it seems like your radiator cap is split.” Joel says. His words immediately pull you from your thoughts and you jump a little; startled as if maybe Joel could hear exactly what you were thinking…thankfully, he couldn’t. 

“Not good, I’m assuming?” You ask with a clear of your throat, desperately hoping your thoughts would return to normal with it. 

Joel chuckles a little and shakes his head as he leans back and away from your engine. He wipes his hands across his jeans and you've never thought about how sexy a man could look dirty and disheveled like Joel does right then and there.

“No good ‘til ya get it fixed at least.” Joel hums and gestures for you to step back just a little, before he lets your car hood slam shut to lock it. “It’ll keep overheating like it is now but…” Joel trails off until he comes to stand in front of you— and you swear he’s close enough that he can hear how hard your heart is beating inside your ribcage. “If you keep it slow, ya could follow me back home. I might be able to fix it long enough for ya to get back to your place.” 

You swallow a lump in your throat and nod to his solution, you weren’t coming up with anything better anyway. Plus, it got you a little more time with him. Little weird that you wanted to spend more time with a ‘stranger’ twice your age— who you just thought about touching in a…not so friendly way— but you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know him just a little better. 

“Yeah, that sounds fine. Thank you so much.” You respond with a smile. 

Joel smiles right back at you before one of his large hands reaches out and grabs your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. “Don’t worry ‘bout it sweetheart.” He says in a light tone, hand sliding just a little inwards along your skin; where he gently rubs a circle into the back of your neck, ever so slightly, before he snatches his hand away. Moving on like nothing happened. As if…his intrusive thoughts had won him over for a split second, before he turns on his heel to open the driver door for you.

Your entire body hums with a newfound feeling you’re not quite sure what to call yet. You float into the driver’s seat, putting your seatbelt on, while Joel motions for you to roll your windows down and you do; rolling all four of them down in somewhat of a panic after misclicking the first time in your jittery state. 

Joel settles onto the ledge of your window, up close and personal enough that you could see the scars on his face. 

Oh how you wished his eyes would look at your lips and give you a reason to kiss him, right then and there. And god did he look good leaning over to you like that too; like he wanted it just as badly as you suddenly did. 

“‘Member, slow and steady,” He breathes and you can almost feel the flutter of his breath across your cheek. “If you see this needle get close or even above this red line right here, pull over and turn the car off a'ight?” He adds, pointing to a needle on your dash.

You nod slightly, fingers twitching at the thought of breaking down in an even worse spot than you already were. And Joel sees that little flicker of worry cross your face before you can hide it and he chuckles. 

“Don’t worry yer’little head off, darlin’. I’ll lead. Be just right in front of ya, and all ya gotta do is follow me, okay?” He hums, tapping the edge of your window with every word, before he pushes himself upright and makes his way back to his truck. 

You watch as he leaves you, getting up into the driver seat of his own truck without another word. And suddenly you’re gripping the steering wheel for dear life. 

What were you doing? What were you thinking? Nothing appropriate to say the least. Images of him muttering that sweet nickname against your lips plays in the back of your mind like a damn movie. You definitely were reading too much into his body language and the way he rolled that darling off his tongue….he was just being nice and helping out a friend's daughter…that was it. You needed to focus. 

You let out a shaky breath, you once again had no idea you were holding, gaze shifting to watch his truck pull off into the road and you pull your car into follow suit behind him. Traveling slowly like he had told you to do so, eyes darting between the back of his pickup truck and your dashboard; watching that little needle he had pointed out to you for any kind of changes. 

After all of this, you’d definitely have to repay him somehow. Would have to ask him what you could do to return the favor of him coming to the rescue of a stranger. Could buy him dinner? That wouldn’t be too much money outside of your budget. Or buy him some beer or whiskey as thanks; he definitely looked like he enjoyed a good alcohol here and there. 

Then a terrible, terrible, idea pops into your head. It was certainly a gamble; he was older, a friend of your dad’s, and probably did not see you in that light at all…but…it was a risk worth taking.

Besides, you could always flee Texas and never come back if things went really badly. 

When the two of you managed to finally arrive at his home, without your car breaking down again along the way, thankfully, you half expected him to live in something…strange to say the least. He was a man you didn’t know, a stranger to you as much as you were to him, and showing up to his house was more than a little odd.

But as you pull up into the long driveway behind him, you realize exactly why your dad was friends with him. He lived relatively secluded, no neighbors, in a gorgeous two-story farmhouse. A large barn sits at the edge of a fence line and beyond is just a beautiful field accompanied by a handful of animals; cows, sheep, and a couple of horses lazing about. You sit in awe for just a moment, taking in the scenery before you, until the brake lights of Joel’s truck flash you back to reality and you come to a full stop behind him. 

Such a big house for one man…or so you had hoped for. Suddenly you remember your father mentioning Joel’s daughter…would she be here too? What kind of person would you be contemplating…”payment” for Joel around his daughter? Shame settles in your stomach but you smother the feeling as you watch Joel slide out of his truck once more. He motions for you to pull around him and into his garage at the side of the house and do as he says. 

As soon as you shut the car off and go to open your door, Joel is already there at your side. A small, welcoming smile is settled on his face as he holds your driver side door open for you. 

You utter a small thanks before stepping out of your car. You don’t have a moment to really look at everything inside his garage before Joel is heading towards a door you assume leads to the inside of his house. 

“Let’s go inside for a moment. Grab a drink and cool off and then figure out what’s goin’ on.” He hums as his hand settles on the doorknob. 

You nod, quickly catching up to him. Your heart pounds inside your ribcage again but you swear it’s going to explode when Joel swings the door inwards, allowing you into his home, but it’s the hover of his hand along your back that causes your heart to pump three times as hard. Tingles seep into every inch of your body but his hand is warm and strong as it just barely touches your back.

Like he’s just trying to be helpful, that’s what he’s telling himself, but he’s tempted by other thoughts— where he wants to lay the full weight of his hand along your back and guide you to wherever he may want you. 

But just as quickly as it comes, it goes. Like an afterthought that never happened. 

You move into his home, gaze shifting over the layout of the kitchen you step into. From just a brief glance, you can tell the inside of his house was just as gorgeous as the outside was. Simple, a little vintage, but definitely something you could see a man like Joel living in. 

“Can I get’cha a drink?” Joel asks as he walks up to his fridge, opening it with an easy throw. “There’s some juice. Or if you prefer, I have diet soda. Sarah says it’s better for my health.” He jokes as he rummages inside the cool fridge. You could practically hear his eyes rolling and it settles the tension in your shoulders. 

“Some water will be fine,” You hum in response, standing awkwardly beside the kitchen island, your fingers running along the counter. “How is Sarah, by the way?” You ask as your eyes settle onto a nearby picture frame of Joel and his daughter. “I’ve only heard about her in passing from my dad…when he was talking about you.” 

“Oh?” Joel chuckles somewhere behind you. “I hope only the good things are told.” 

You smile at his words, stopping at the edge of the kitchen island. 

Not prepared in the slightest as the tips of his fingers press into the back of your arm; causing you to jump at his touch and swivel on your heel to face him. And he’s close…closer than before. If you moved in anyway, you’re sure your chest would run right into his own. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you drag your gaze up into his. You freeze in the spot, waiting for something…anything to happen. Waiting for him to make a move, either away from you or to sweep you into his embrace but he does neither; he freezes just as much as you do. Tension swirls around the room like a hot summer’s wind, brewing up a storm, making everything just a little too sticky and your palms sweaty.

But just like a tornado, the tension comes and goes, leaving everything in place except for the feeling of ‘holy shit’. 

“Your water, sweetheart.” Joel finally mutters, taking his slight step back and offering you up the water he had fetched out, breaking the tension that had built up seconds ago. 

You take the glass of water out of his hand with a slight tremble to your fingers but you hold it nonetheless, continuing to stand still as he pulls away. He clears his throat as he retreats, putting space between the two of you once more. 

“But yeah, um, Sarah’s good. Married, no kids yet but maybe one day.” Joel says through another clear of his throat, trying to will away whatever that feeling of “holy shit” was from before. He turns away from you once more, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

And from your position, you can see the tips of his ears flushed a soft red. It makes you shudder at the thought of him blushing around you like some lovesick man. 

You take a sip of your water and it tastes stale compared to the want you have for the older man. You clear your own throat to try and refocus, nodding to his statement about his daughter.

At least it was somewhat comforting to know that, after what just happened, his daughter wasn’t going to come racing through the front door and watch her dad hit on someone younger or the same age as her. 

“And no Mrs. Miller?” You blurt out before you can even think about what you’re saying. Certainly pushing the boundaries now. Your dad had never spoken about Joel having a wife before but it never hurt to ask…especially after what just happened. “Sorry that’s inappropriate, right?” You embarrassingly mutter, even if it was the right thing to ask after the two of you just got done dry humping each other with your eyes.  

Joel chuckles slightly at your question, shaking his head as he eases back into ‘mr. calm and collected’. “S’alright. But yes, once. A long time ago. I’ve been divorced ever since.” He responds but says nothing more as he sets down his own preferred drink on the counter. “It’s just lil ole me and Sarah.” Joel adds; letting you in on his quiet life just a little more. 

You want to tell him how much you’re glad it’s just him. How you’ve been wanting just him since he stepped out of his truck back on the road. 

“And you? No partner waitin’ at home for ya?” Joel asks quietly, as if he’s unsure if he really should be asking the question or not; but curiosity is getting the better of the old man. 

You laugh a little at his question, an easy smile sitting on your lips. “Nope. Suppose I wouldn’t be here if I did.” 

“Hmm,” Joel ponders. “Suppose not. But I doubt you’d wanna be stuck here with an old man like me if ya didn’t have to.” 

“Good thing you don’t know me too well then,” You chime, tucking a few strands of loose hair behind your ear, glancing away from him as you ramble on about how much you are actually happy to be there, with him.

When you lift your eyes back to him, you stare right into his warm gaze. “I’m…enjoying this.” You admit finally with a shaky exhale. And if this wasn’t the moment that would set the nail into the head of: “do I need to flee the state or is this okay?” then you weren’t sure when it would happen. 

Joel’s eyes crinkle just ever so slightly and so quickly, that for a second you think you've almost imagined it. And you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He nods just a little, as if he’s almost speechless, clearing his throat to once again shake off the tension that has built up.

Returning back to reality, he takes a sip off his drink and settles against one of the many kitchen cabinets, swirling the liquid around in his glass. “So, your dad didn’t teach you anything about cars?” 

You laugh, shaking your head as you join him in leaning against the island counter. “You’re surprised? He doesn’t know a damn thing about them either.” You huff softly. 

“Mmm, true. I had to show him how to change a tire once.” Joel responds playfully, glancing in your direction.

“See!” You chuckle again, fiddling with the cup between your fingers. “Guess that’s why he told me to call you if I ever needed anything.” 

That warm, fuzzy feeling floats over your entire body again; weighs on you like a thick blanket while Joel falls silent for a second. 

God, how you wished you could hear what was going on in that head of his.

Before he answers, he shoots back all of the dark liquor in his glass, needing it for whatever else may go on that day. “He was right. Call me for anything, ya may need sweetheart.” Joel whispers, low and slow, sending a cool spike down your spine.

You suck in a quiet breath while his words stick to you— like your thighs would stick to a leather seat after sitting down for too long. Your pulse throbs in your throat. Was he just confirming what your dad had told you to do; to call him whenever you may need it? Or were you reading too much into it all…just because your feelings for him were running a little too wild? 

“So, thought ya didn’t live in Texas any more? Some fancy school or job, your dad mentioned one time or ‘nother.” Joel breaks through the silence you had left in the open, bringing you back to the moment with him.

You take another sip off your water before giving him a small nod. “Yep. Just came back to visit him. Bein’ a good daughter and all.”

“Hmm, a good daughter…” Joel mutters to himself and if you two weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have heard him. You can’t help but think what he could mean by that but you’re not going to bring it up…yet. 

“Anyway, I’m only here for a few weeks, and of course on my vacation my car decides to break down. Just my luck huh,” You sigh. “And my budget doesn’t allow for car troubles so I’m really hoping you can fix it.” 

“Budget?” Joel hums, glancing down at his empty glass, most likely debating to get another drink or not. “And you were gonna call a tow truck on a budget?” Joel says with that teasing tone of his. 

“Well…yeah, I guess if I had to.” You respond with a shrug, smiling over at him. 

Joel chuckles, his gaze casted into the depths of his glass as he fiddles with the cup while he speaks. “No doubt you could swindle your way outta some trouble if ya had to.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You tease right back, taking the chance to inch closer to him. 

Joel clears his throat, as if he hadn’t expected to say what he said in the first place and just got caught. Now he was struggling to come up with the words to justify exactly why he said what he said. “Uh, well ya know,” Joel starts, stopping in his search at the bottom of his glass, his summer gaze returning to look over at you. His eyes tenderly move along your body; following every curve and dip as if it were his fingers trailing your skin instead. It feels like an eternity, him just looking at you, but in reality it probably only lasts for a second too long. “Lookin’ all pretty like that. Just sayin’ you could get away with anything if ya wanted to hun.” He says, all hushed and soft. 

A storm was absolutely brewing now and suddenly you’re glad to have worn that summer floral dress you had bought ages ago. 

You wait for a heartbeat, his gaze still licking flames across your body, before you reach out to him with a gentle but firm hand. You press your fingers into his exposed forearm, making a little circle against his tan skin to mimic him from earlier. 

And for some reason, you were far bolder than you had ever been in your life as you took another step closer to the older man, skimming your fingers further along his skin, batting pretty eyelashes in his direction. 

“Anything?” You whisper, just loud enough for him and only him to hear. Didn’t matter if no one else was home, you wanted to make sure it was for him. 

It was a good sign when he didn’t immediately jerk away or start yelling for you to get out. His breath catches in his throat this time and you watch as his chest begins to rise and fall as you stand dangerously close to him. Standing in the shadow of his frame, being almost swallowed up as he towers over you. 

“Darlin’” Joel finally utters, glancing down his nose at you, his fingers twitching at his sides; as if he’s trying to hold himself back from embracing you. “You know that’s not a good idea.” 

You shrug a little, pushing your fingers just underneath the curl of his shirt sleeve, touching the very beginning to the thick of his bicep. “Why not? It’s just us.” 

“You know why,” Joel protests softly. “I’m twice your age. And I’m your father’s friend.” 

“And yet…you’re not moving away,” You whisper, making it a point to squeeze his bicep. Your eyes trail from his gaze to the plump of his lips, lingering just long enough for him to notice, before you glance all the way back up to his eyes. “Let me repay you for coming to my rescue.” 

He doesn’t speak, having been caught and now his argument was quickly crumbling into almost nothing. 

To give him a little encouragement, your fingers trail back down to his wrist and you guide his hand to the edge of your skirt, pushing his fingers just slightly under your dress and against the thick of your thigh. “C’mon…Joel.” You hum his name all sweet like honey and it finally breaks him. 

“Fuck,” Joel curses under his breath as he sweeps you up. The hand on your thigh opens up and curls around you, dragging you into the front of his chest. His other hand settles against the curve of your neck as he comes crashing down onto you like a wave. 

He presses his lips into yours in a hot and heavy kiss. His tongue is already darting along the thick of your bottom lip– desperate and needy— just like you’ve been since the second you saw him bent over your car. 

“Dammit, you…” Joel pants against your lips. “I was tryin’ so hard…” He groans, lifting your hips into his own with his single hand. “You and that damn dress and the way you stare at me, Christ.” Joel fumbles, shifting his hand along your body. His hand grabbing your ass in a tight grip, his calm and collected self long, long gone now. He squeezes your ass, eating up the moan that tumbles from your lips into his. “Wanna hear that pretty little voice callin’ my damn name s’more.” 

“Joel.” You breathe his name and it makes him groan again. It’s deep and raspy, sends a vibration to the very tips of your fingers.

His knee bumps into yours, knocking your legs to part to allow him space between your thighs. The flat of his thigh presses right into the spot where you’re quickly coming to yearn for him. You grind into the thick of his thigh, mewling into the softness of his mouth. You were already far too needy, dripping through your underwear and smearing against his jeans.

Joel groans at the increasing wetness slicking his thigh and his fingers grip just a little harder along your skin. His teeth grab hold of your bottom lip, gently pulling on the plumpness, before his tongue is replacing his teeth with a wet swipe.  

“Taste s’good sweetheart.” He whispers with a chuckle. “Been wantin’ this all damn day.” 

You shudder at his words— at least it was comforting to know that since he showed up in the middle of nowhere to save you; you weren’t the only one looking at him in a new light. 

You needed more than just a little dry humping and hot make out session to be satisfied though— especially concerning the risk of…everything. Your fingers once gripping onto the thick of his biceps trail down to the front of his pants, fiddling with his belt. 

But his own hand quickly grabs your wrist the second you attempt to undo his belt.

Startled, Joel breaks the kiss, panting roughly while his gaze settles onto your flushed face. “We shouldn’t.” Joel mumbles, shaking his head just a little. Trying to talk the both of you out of doing something that could potentially ruin a lot of things. Kissing could be excused but anything else after was not so easily explained or forgiven. “I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t…not with an old man like me.” Joel counters through clenched teeth. 

“Joel,” You softly utter his name like a prayer. “I want you so fucking bad right now, I don’t care. And I know it’s not just me.”

“This is a bad idea…” Joel groans as he stares down at you; his composure slowly coming undone once again as his grip around your wrist is slowly loosening up.

Funny how you had told yourself that exact same thing too. But now you really didn’t care; no obstacle could get in your way when your cunt was throbbing his name. “Slow and steady…” You whisper his earlier words back to him. “You lead, remember? I’ll do what you say Joel…” 

Joel hesitates, clearly battling his inner thoughts. He could have you, right then and there– in all his desperation, need, and desire pent up for you. But he was your dad’s friend and if he ever found out…it would end far too many good relationships. 

“Just…a little more.” Joel finally huffs, crumbling like sand as his lips return back to yours in a last-ditch effort to calm all of his worrying thoughts. And it helps when you melt right back into the kiss.

Your fingers return to fidgeting with his belt buckle, trying to strip him as quickly as you possibly could just in case he changed his mind. Your hips moving faster, grinding heavier against his thigh. His name tastes sweet as it rolls off your tongue as you manage to undo that damned buckle. Your fingers work wonder’s undoing the rest of his jeans. Fingers flicking the button open and the zipper comes down with just a small tug of his jeans. But your fingers don’t stop in the slightest as they seek out what you’re really after. 

Joel helps ever so slightly, shimming his jeans down to his thighs, giving you the room to shove his underwear down and finally set him free. 

You immediately wrap a hand around his hardened shaft. Fingers brushing up along to the very tip and you tremble at how wet he is. Leaking across the flat of your thumb with just a single touch. 

Joel deeply groans, breaking the kiss again and glancing down to watch your hand stroke him. Cursing himself inside his mind for being so pathetic and hard with just a little bit of touching and a few kisses— acting as if he was a fresh twenty year old about to get laid for the first time, all over again. 

“Just a little…” Joel whispers, mostly to himself, continuing to try and convince himself that it was all going to be alright if it was just a little at a time. 

Your hand continues to sweep across the entire curve of his throbbing cock, squirming a little under his watchful gaze. 

“Joel,” You whine his name, grinding harshly into his thigh again. You were soaking now; smearing across his jeans, leaving behind a desperate trail of need. 

“S’alright baby, I gotcha,” Joel responds softly, picking up your needy little tone. His fingers slip from beneath your dress, just to grab the hem of the fabric, yanking the skirt up high. You scramble with your free hand to grab your dress, keeping it up high for him so his own fingers can work on pleasing you. 

Thick digits slide down against the seam of your soaked panties and above the pleasure ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel chuckle at your apparent neediness. 

“Fuckin’ soaked baby,” Joel hums, swiping his fingers against your core once more. “This wet for an old man like me?” He adds before he yanks your underwear to the side. 

Calloused fingers travel through your slick folds, his fingers circling around the sensitive nub. Joel chuckles again at the whine that you try to hold back before he’s pressing a thick digit inside your velvet walls. 

You gasp his name, quick and harsh as he begins to thrust into the slickness of your cunt. Your hand moves faster along his shaft, trying to keep up with his pace as he fingers you. Your legs open just a little wider on instinct, allowing him more space between.

His fingers plummet into the seam of your cunt, rapid and a little sloppy but it gets the job done more than effectively. The lewd noises echoing inside the room from the slick of his fingers pumping in and out of you, normally would leave you an embarrassed mess but with a single curl of his finger, those thoughts immediately are swept away. 

His pace quickens and before you have time to react, he’s adding a second finger into the depths of your pussy; stretching you out, guiding you to a close, burning ledge. 

“Shit, Joel!” You sob, open mouth, tears flicking to the corners of your eyes. Your hand stutters but Joel doesn’t mind, his hips thrust forward, grinding the full weight of himself into your grasp.

Even in your haze you manage to shift your hand to point him directly where his fingers disappear inside your seam. “Want you right here, Joel, please. Please, I need it.” You cry, nudging the tip of his cock into your clit. 

Joel growls, deep from within his chest, like a wild animal claiming its prey. His hips stutter just a little, pressing heavier into your clit. But he shakes his head, gritting his teeth. 

“No. No, that’s…off limits,” He groans even as he continues to nudge his head into your cunt. 

“Joel,” You whine but Joel shakes his head, curling his fingers inside to send a strike of lightning along your spine. 

“No. Not this time baby,” Joel coos in a soft, luring voice. Trying to tell himself more than he was warning you.

“Just, ah, the tip then please, please.” You whine, clenching around his fingers still stuffing inside your core. “Please. Just wanna feel you, just enough.” You pathetically beg. His fingers weren’t enough, even just a little bit of his thick head pressing inside you would solve all your problems. 

It’s Joel’s turn to softly whimper after you speak. “The tip,” He repeats, tasting your words on his tongue. “Just the tip.” He says again, finally deciding that just a little bit more was enough. His thick fingers slip out from your inner walls and you feel empty without him. As if your body had been made to fit just him and him alone; and with how fast your head was spinning, you didn’t doubt it for a second. 

You nod frantically as he accepts just using the tip of his head. You grab hold of his shoulder and squeeze it tight, preparing for what comes next. 

Joel takes his hand covered in your slick and wraps it around the base of his shaft. His fingers tangle and nudge against yours; and together you move over his entire cock, coating all of him in the remaining wetness on his fingers. 

He takes a smaller step into you, close enough to smother you entirely. He slots himself right into the slit of your cunt, dragging every inch of his shaft through your soaking wet folds. 

You shiver as he drags himself against you, gripping his shoulder just a little tighter as a mind numbing wave of pleasure races through you. You angle your head ever so slightly to kiss up along his neck, panting against his skin with every kiss you try to place. 

“Fuck…you’re droolin’ all over me sweetheart.” Joel groans, thrusting his hips forward again. He stares where the two of you connect, pupils blown and mouth slightly agape as he watches with awe how he disappears between you. The hand not guiding his cock against you hooks around the crook of your knee, bringing your hips into his. Joel opens your legs and in one fell swoop he slips inside your sloppy seam; and as promised, just the tip. 

When he presses the tip finally inside of you, it knocks the breath out of your lungs. You gasp for air, digging your nails into the thick of his shoulder. His name bubbles up into your throat but it never leaves your lips. Your thighs tremble just as much as your bottom lip does with his entrance into your aching cunt. 

Joel’s grip on your knee is sure to leave bruises but god if he asked, you’d tattoo them on your body. To remind him, and only him, that you belonged to him. 

His entire body shakes as he forces himself to remain totally still. He grunts through clenched teeth as he wills himself not to move further inside you; no matter how badly he wants to slam his hips forward with the way you suck so eagerly on just his tip— he refuses to do so. And it takes every ounce of his willpower not to thrust forward.

“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath. “‘S tight. You’re so tight, baby.” He adds with a slight whimper to his voice, eyes still heavily staring where the two of you connect. Hips sliding back, dragging the length of his cock out, before digging forward again.

You don’t answer, can’t answer; all you can think of is how fucking good he’s making you feel, even with just the tip.

When he finally sets a good pace, his thrusts are sharp but shallow and not near enough to truly satisfy every inch of your needy core but you’ll take it…until next time. Next time, he’s fucking you into the goddamn mattress until you pass out. 

You try your best to move your hips in sync with his shallow thrusts but Joel quickly shuts that down with his hand moving to grip your hip. When you manage to look up at him, he just weakly shakes his head a little. 

“No.” He mutters, sweat dripping off the high of his eyebrow. “If you move like that I’ll want more than this…” He admits with a flutter to his eyes. 

You groan but nod nonetheless. “Next time.” You huff with a hoarse voice. 

Joel chuckles a little and nods right back at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Next time.” He mimics before returning to dig into your core. Your dress bunches under his grasp and he uses it just a little bit to keep himself grounded and you from moving. 

Your body is raging like a storm beneath your skin with how quick your orgasm is rising to greet you. And you’re almost sure if he fully pressed his cock into every inch of your sensitive pussy right then and there, you’d make the worst mess. You’d soak your dress and every inch of his jeans and boots. And while you want him so badly all the way, deep inside, kissing your womb– you’re a little thankful he wasn’t. Didn’t want to embarrass yourself too badly, this time anyway. 

“Joel,” You utter, stars blossoming across your vision with your impending orgasm burning inside your lower tummy. 

“Shh, I know darlin’.” Joel hums back. He doesn’t have to say anything about his own orgasm with the way his cockhead is beginning to swell inside of you. 

For a split second you almost want to beg him to cum inside, wanting to feel him warm and deep inside every inch of your trembling walls but you could already guess what the answer to that was going to be, so you keep your lips sealed. 

Your mind turns fuzzy as his shallow thrust turns chaotic and ruthless, stretching you with every drag. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle and break but his strong hands hold you up anyway. He wanted you to finish, wanted to feel you clench and flutter around his tip while he considered turning you around, bending you over and really getting the chance to stretch you out. 

“Baby girl,” Joel drawls, low and slow, pressing kiss after kiss into the crown of your head. His chest rises and falls with every rapid breath he sucks between his teeth. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy…not gonna last. Want you to come for darlin’, all over my cock, can you do that baby?” 

He doesn’t even have to ask twice. You can no longer find your voice to form any other word besides “please” as the heat of your womb blossoms. The warmth explodes through every inch of your body. Your back arches with your orgasm, hips stuttering and if it wasn’t for Joel’s big hand on your hip, you might have swallowed him entirely by accident. Your chest presses directly up into his and you can taste the tip of his name coating your tongue as you come all across his cockhead. 

He waits until you’re entirely spent before he allows himself to come as well. He lets go of your hip, grabbing the thick of his base once more, and drags himself out of your tight cunt at the last second before he smears his mark across you.

White, hot spurts of cum splash against your cunt with every stroke of his hand. With a deep groan, he presses his tip into your clit, leaving his mark right up against the curve of your pussy. His hand quickly moves along his entire shaft, pushing out every last drop of his cum into the slit of your quivering pussy. Your name is whispered so softly in time with every jerk of his hand, it leaves you lightheaded and whimpering for Joel.

When he’s finished, his own damn head is spinning. He’s out of breath, staring at the mess he’s made with half lidded eyes. He swipes his thumb through the stain he’s made, chuckling quietly at how much sticks to your skin. 

“Damn sweetheart,” Joel hums in approval, shivering at the sight of you covered in his mark. “You got so much outta me darlin’, like I’m fuckin’ in my twenties again.” 

You’re slowly coming down from your high when he speaks but his words make you laugh alongside him. You were no better than he was; that was one of the best orgasms you’d ever had in your life. The pleasure still pounding inside your ears like a second heartbeat. 

“Yeah? Imagine what it’ll be like next time.” You whisper, letting your full body weight fall back onto the kitchen counter he had previously backed you up into.  

Joel quiets then, letting silence stretch between the two of you like a dry, humid summer. You can’t read his gaze and with the silence accompanying him, you’re not sure you want to read it anyway. But it’s gone quickly and he returns to that softness you’ve seen all day long. 

“Next time?” Joel hums, threading his fingers through your sticky cunt. “Next time, you’re not even gonna be able to fuckin’ walk, sweetheart.”

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller

[dollbrbie]

MAKE UP SEX ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

꒰ criminal!sukuna m.list ꒱

“you didn’t need to come get me.”, you sigh, staring out of the window of you ex boyfriend’s car as you face away from him.

“are you kidding?” he scoffs, “you sounded like a mess over the phone.”

you roll your eyes at his comment. you had previously been at the club with your girls, just wanting a fun night out until you found yourself paralytic drunk, and calling your ex boyfriend with slurred words and childish giggles.

it wasn’t long before sukuna was storming into the place, his brows furrowed with concern whilst pulling your by your arm and into his car, forcing you to drink a bottle of water with scolding words.

“are you still drinking your water?”, he asks with a firm tone, side eyeing you.

“yes.”, you mumble, taking a sip of the cold bottle of water which has been sobering you up well enough.

pulling up to your apartment complex, sukuna asks, “what made you call me, anyway? aren’t you the one usually scolding me for that.”

“i dunno.. in the moment i just missed you, i think.”

“you think?” he repeats sarcastically before turning to face you, his attention fully on you, “what are we doing here, hm? we’re exes but we certainly don’t act like it. do you actually miss me or are you just keeping me around until you find the next guy?”

you scoff before replying, “you think i put myself through this just because? obviously i miss you, sukuna. but, how am i meant to feel safe around you with the shit you do?”

“you’ve got marbles for brains if you think i’d let anything happen to you. don’t you get i fucking love you?”

you’re silent for a moment, “even after all this?”

“you for real? especially after all this.”

soon followed your hand grasping onto the steamy windows of sukuna’s car, your pretty moans falling from your parted lips as sukuna bottoms out inside of you with his pelvis colliding with the plush of your ass.

“fuck.. forgot how good this pussy felt, baby.”, he groans, one hand entwined with yours and the other balancing himself in the backseat of his car as he fucks you dumb, admiring your trembling form and your fucked out face.

“tell me y’missed me.”, he demands with a whisper, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and eliciting a whine from you.

“missed you.. so much.”, you cry out as you feel sukuna abuse your g spot, your walls clenching around his cock.

he hisses at the feeling of your walls flutting around him before replying, “yeah? couldn’t stop thinking about you, y’know. you’re all i damn thought about.”

you whimper out his name, feeling your pleasure build up to it’s tipping point as your toes curling and your breaths becoming heavy, desperate for your own orgasm.

“i know, baby. hold out a little f’me, okay? m’ gonna cum soon as well.”, he says, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand as he buries his face into the side of your neck, continuing to abuse your sweet spot until his cock throbs.

you suddenly feel the electricity of your climax, crying out your ex’s name like a beautiful prayer with your head thrown back and your hand gripping onto his.

“shit- inside or out?”, he asks, his orgasm so close as he feels the consistent clenching of your walls around his throbbing cock.

“in- in- in.”, you chant, desperate to feel his orgasm, to feel him claim and take you as his once more.

and so he does, emptying himself completely inside of your wanting walls, reaching down to kiss your parted lips as he shudders from the overwhelming sensation of his own orgasm.

“fuck, baby..”, he mutters out, his chest heavy as he comes down from his high, looking at your glossy eyes as he traces his thumb against your parted lips, “i’m not letting you leave me again, and i’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“i know.”, you mutter, looking up at the man you love knowing you were his and he was yours.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[inkandapex]

you are so kindness

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary: Lando and his girlfriend, Y/N, spend time unboxing and reading heartfelt gifts and letters from his fans.

Words: 1.05k

Warnings: none

Lando sat in front of the camera, comfortably settled in what appeared to be his apartment. Beside him, several bags overflowed with letters and gifts—tokens of appreciation from fans collected throughout race weekends.

"Right, so—" He clapped his hands together, ruffling his curls absentmindedly as he figured out how to begin.

"A while back, I filmed a video reading a compilation of really sweet messages from young fans. My team and I saw how much it meant to them, so we wanted to do something similar. This time, as a way of showing appreciation for all the effort you guys put into making these gifts, we've gathered a bunch of them here, and we’ll be going through them together." He gestured at the bags surrounding him, a warm smile tugging at his lips.

As he took in the sheer amount of mail, Lando let out a small chuckle. "I doubt I’ll get through all of these by myself, so I’ve brought in some help—my lovely assistant for today." He grinned at someone off-camera before patting the spot beside him.

Y/N walked into frame, settling down next to him with an easy smile. She glanced at him before turning to the camera. "Hey guys, I’m Lando’s assistant for the day."

"My beautiful assistant here actually helped collect these gifts—whether from fans at the track or people we ran into on the streets."

Y/N nodded, looking around at the colourful packages. "I’m really excited. I’ve already seen some of these, and they’re really cool. You guys are so talented."

"Alright, let’s get started." Lando reached into the nearest bag, pulling out a handful of letters. As he read through them, he skipped over certain parts, but the way his face softened showed how much the words meant to him.

Meanwhile, Y/N unwrapped a small package, revealing a set of handmade beaded bracelets in papaya colors, complete with Lando’s initials and a tiny version of his race helmet.

"Lan, look!" She held them up, making him pause mid-sentence. Turning to the camera, she showed off the bracelets with a grin.

"Those are sick," Lando said, taking one and slipping it onto his wrist before grabbing the other and gently putting it on Y/N. "We actually love these—we’ve got a whole box of them somewhere in the apartment."

"I'm pretty sure I have one that says 'Smooth Operator,'" Y/N laughed. "Not sure if the fan meant to give it to me or if they wanted you to pass it on to Carlos, but either way, we kept it!"

Lando chuckled, shaking his head. "Carlos is gonna love that."

And with that, they continued sifting through the gifts, their easy banter filling the room as they shared moments of appreciation for the fans who had taken the time to send them something special.

Lando picked up a letter, his smile widening as he began to read aloud.

"Dear Lando... My dad told me I could be just like you one day. I also want to drive really fast cars. P.S. I think your hair is really nice. P.P.S. Can Y/N and I be friends too?"

He let out a chuckle, glancing over at Y/N before handing her the letter.

Y/N skimmed through it, her expression softening. "Of course we can be friends!" she said brightly, looking into the camera with a warm smile.

They continued opening gifts, appreciating each thoughtful item. But when Y/N pulled out a beautifully crocheted tote bag—designed with Lando’s helmet pattern—she let out an audible gasp, holding it up for the camera.

Lando chuckled, immediately recognizing the look in her eyes. "You want it, huh?"

Y/N nodded eagerly, giving him a hopeful glance.

His features softened. "I don’t think they’ll mind if you have it, my love," he said with a fond smile before turning back to his own box.

Y/N peeked inside the bag, pulling out the accompanying letter. As she read it, a soft laugh escaped her lips, catching Lando’s attention.

"What?" he asked, pausing mid-unwrapping.

"It’s for me," she said, biting back a grin.

"The tote?"

"Yeah, they made it for me," she confirmed, handing him the letter as proof.

Lando scanned the note before shaking his head with a smirk. "Guess I should’ve known."

Y/N beamed, hugging the bag close. "I love it even more now."

"Look at this," Lando grinned, holding up a sheet of fan-made Sonny Angel stickers—tiny, cherubic versions of himself, Oscar, and Carlos.

"Ah!" Y/N gasped, immediately reaching for her phone. She flipped it over to show the camera her phone case, which had the same Lando Sonny Angel sticker stuck to the back. "The fan from Australia gave me some when I saw her!"

Lando’s expression softened as he looked at her. "Glad you’re repping the right person," he teased. "Bet you don’t have this, though." With a triumphant smirk, he pulled out a Miffy plushie—dressed in a tiny replica of his racing suit, complete with a mini helmet in its hands.

Y/N let out a loud gasp, covering her mouth. "That’s adorable!"

Lando turned to the camera knowingly. "She’s gonna ask me for it—"

"This one's mine too, actually," Y/N cut in before he could finish.

Lando blinked, looking over to see her holding a letter she had just fished out from the box. He leaned over to peek at it before shaking his head with a dramatic sigh.

"Why do I have a feeling half of these are actually meant for you now?" he pouted, reluctantly handing over the plushie.

Y/N took it eagerly, a wide smile spreading across her face as she admired it. "What can I say?" she grinned, squeezing the tiny Miffy. "They love me."

ando squinted dramatically at the camera. "And here I was thinking I was your favorite because of my kindness."

Y/N smirked, immediately catching onto the reference. "You are so kindness, Lando. We love your kindness," she teased, perfectly mimicking Oscar from their last video.

Lando burst out laughing, shaking his head. "Thank you, my love. I try," he said, voice laced with faux humility. Then, with a soft chuckle, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

Y/N beamed, playfully nudging him. "You’re so humble too."

"Truly the full package," Lando sighed, before reaching for another gift, still grinning.

[nanamiskentos]

★ ☄️🪽 ARMAGEDDON ! jujutsu kaisen. 呪術廻戦.

prologue ⋆ ★ what if gojo satoru was the king of curses? or nanami kento, the suave n' disdainful cult leader? ryomen sukuna, the strongest at jujutsu tech? welcome to alternate reality jujutsu kaisen.

pairings ⋆ ★ gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab/she+her!reader, fíngering (f), metaphysical séx, reader is called 'whóre', the most incorrect use of unlimited void ever, óral (m), consensual éxhibitiónism/voyéurísm (nanami), mentions of violence, wall séx, hate séx (choso), jealous séx, car séx (toji), ríding him to tears, córruption kink, overstím, angry séx, lore swaps in a way that would make shonen jump blacklist me forever

word count ⋆ ★ 5.1k a/n ⋆ ★ been teasing this since november last year and i lost motivation and forced myself to pick it back up and get it togetherrr 😭 my formal apologies extended to gege

GOJO SATORU ៹. the king of curses

"i h-hate you, i really, really do!" funny, isn't it? how the words that fall from your kiss-stung lips don't quite match at how you're writhing and squirming in the lap of a being that could easily snap you in two, should he so wished.

clearly, gojo satoru seems to find you, his vessel, just as amusing, for he thinks he's grown rather used to your antics. to the way that you claim to detest him, and that you'll never entertain his offers ever again. and yet here you are, always crawling back to the king of curses when the long hours of the night don't allow you to rest.

"that's possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," gojo coos, chiming sweetly while two fingers work their way through your insides, crooking and curling to find your sweet spot. sighing as though he wasn't affected by your bare form, draped across his throne, "you know what i really admire about you? your unshakeable principles. how you say that you just can't stand me, heh, and yet, always beggin' like a whore for me."

"fuck, gojo, r-right there, –" eyes rolling to the back of your head, revealing the whites, as translucent gloss practically drips down one of the demon's four hands.

"yes, yes," gojo mutters, "i'll get to that, jus' gotta' be patient." luckily, your back is pressed against his bare chest, the muscles and flesh littered with bold, ivory markings. the very edges of ice-kissed hair tickling at your cheek as sharp fangs sink into the shell of your ear, almost tender.

each push and pull of gojo's slender, sturdy fingers between your swollen folds leaves a resounding pop! that echoes through this...well, you're not quite sure where you are. all you know is that, as gojo satoru's vessel, you're prone to sharing his domain — particularly when you're trying to sleep. frankly, you should be a little more concerned about the frequency of these metaphysical meetings, but it's hard to think of little else but how his fingers are so thick, hitting all the right spots in you.

"hey, have i ever told ya' about unlimited void?" gojo suddenly murmurs, jostling right over the nasty bulge that the king of curses packs beneath those loose robes. you tiredly droop your head back, too busy rolling your hips, so close to that dear climax that you've been chasing ever since your soul popped up in gojo's throne room. your eyes meet four blue irises, each one cunning and sharp.

"is t-this really the time for a, hah, a lesson?" you scowl, feeling gojo stiffen and curse underneath you when your pretty cunt sets a steady rhythm over his clothed shaft, "you were no help earlier today, y'know that, right? when that c-curse was –"

gojo nips at your neck, those strands of snowy hair kissing your neck once more, "you were doing just fine without me, always got somethin' to complain about, don't you, eh?" lifting your hips to hiss at the arousal that's leaking out from underneath you, pooling in his wide lap. muttering something about how a human and a lowly vessel like you should be honoured to receive a teaching from the incarnated king of curses, "now pay attention, 'cause i'm not gonna' be repeating myself. 's about t-time you learnt more about this domain."

bleary eyes cracking open to try and capture the sight of a floorless throne room, as though the night sky had been captured to form the base, flickering often as a starless, yet stormy sky, "i k-know unlimited void," you whine, "always showin' off in my head 'bout it," seething as gojo stills his fingers inside you, tutting as he presses a kiss to the nape of your neck.

two beefy arms still hold you aloft, while one has fingers buried within your cunt, and the fourth? deft, rough pads of his fingers begin rubbing soothing, tight circles over your clit, rendering most of your mind to mush, "not just a realm, sweetheart. heh, guess you could say it's a curse. at least for anyone foolish enough to find themselves trapped there –," patting your thighs gently, "present company excluded, of course."

resuming his gentle, punishing pace once more, still curling upwards where he's most eager to reach, that special spot that will see you falling apart so beautifully, "see, when most lesser beings enter, it's like – mhmm, how should i put this?" gojo's musing, voice curling melodiously behind you, slapping away your eager hand that reaches for his cock, "not yet, where was i? well, unlimited void stretches one's mind, traps ya' in an endless sea of information. trust me, yer' gonna' know every atom and particle out there."

"ah, gojo!" lashes fluttering with crystal tears that pull at the corners of your eyes, for he's hit the arrowhead right on the mark, right where your climax is poised to wash over you any second now.

but gojo's ignoring your needy cries, two fingers flexing so tense against your gummy, sticky walls, "so the mind can't really handle unlimited void, and most are just...shut down. but only when i activate it, does that make sense?" he's musing, not waiting for your answer, "yeah, it does, hah. but we are not most lesser beings, right?"

you're not even sure what on earth he's going on about, desperate to chase the orgasm that teases you, licks flames at your groin, "n-no, we're not, fuck, gojo, 'm so –"

"close?" gojo chuckles darkly, and you should have known. truly, you should have guessed that he would have never been so generous with your pleasure if he wasn't planning something. for just as you ripple with the dazed pleasure, you can feel gojo crook one finger in you, one behind the other, curling the digits just so he can mutter something you only catch when it's too late.

"unlimited void."

what follows next is earth-shattering, for you feel as though its the ultimate surrender to the king of curses, where time and space, and thought all blend together into something overwhelming perfect, rather than suffocating. your lips part, soundless as a silent cry is ripped from you, your thighs quivering atop gojo satoru's muscular lap, release absolutely spraying and gushing out from your swollen, eager folds.

you've never had a release that's quite so...clear and inviting, and you can hear gojo's amused, aroused laugh against your back, and if you didn't know better, you would assume that the king of curses is running pale claws through your hair, letting you ride out the crystalline wave of your orgasm.

"hahh, oh my – oh my god, satoru," you're probably babbling, clinging and creating a bigger mess over gojo, who just narrows all four eyes, tipped with white, long lashes. he's smiling, as though he knows something that you don't, and he looks almost pleased, "should we continue the next lesson tomorrow night?"

NANAMI KENTO ៹. the cult leader

you should have known better, you really should have been a bit smarter about all this, about flouncing into the hall where nanami had been holding court, or rather, cult. for the mats had been set up the previous day for the wealthiest benefactors to come and see the great, golden man in the flesh.

and you doubt your husband had been...pleased, when you had poked your head past the great sliding doors, clad in nothing but an open robe in swathes of rippling navy. so all those who turned their head would have caught sight of nanami kento's beautiful wife, nipples pebbled in the cool air, drawing their line of sight to the apex of your thighs. so, that's how you found yourself here, lips pursed around the fat head of the cult leader's shaft.

"she's doin' so well, isn't she?" nanami intones, gentle hand guiding the nape of your neck, loving even. well, he always was, despite the games that the two of you played. the show that he was always eager to put on, hazel eyes gazing over the gaping maws of the benefactors who could only watch, shifting on their mats as you lifted your head up with a pop!

he's chuckling to himself, running a limp hand through thick waves of amber hair, "heh, 's okay. no-one needs speak, i need to be hearing her properly." her being the slick sounds echoing from the hollows of your mouth, the lips that you used to press creamy kisses onto his cock.

"doing, mmph – doing good?" you mumble, that heavy slurp! of your tongue against the broad underside of his cock sending him to heaven and back. he's adjusting his glasses, guiding a shaky hand to the base of his cock, where golden curls coil thickly, slowly sliding his member from your pretty mouth. smearing your waiting lips with the translucent smears of pre that you've pulled from him.

"the best," nanami assures you, patting at his thick, muscular thighs for you to lay your head, "and t-they all think so too, i bet." he can see the gleam in your eyes, knows that you're enjoying this just as much as he is.

wondering at all the creative ways that he can take you right after this, perhaps splayed out on his lap for all to see, back against the teal robes snug on his chest, so the benefactors can see his cock slide between the fat folds of your cunt. tempting.

you're pursing your lips once more, wiping a stray, clingy strand of nanami's arousal from your chin, before diving back to the head task at hand. each wet, sloppy sound of your glistening lips against the fat, blushed tip of his cock has nanami's thighs shaking, quivering. determined not to whine and lose composure in front of the men who fork over billions of yen to his...temple each month.

but it's your hands that are the most dangerous, nanami concludes, for while you flatten your tongue against his tip, your fist tightens around the base of his cock, teasing gentle fingers against the folds of skin right underneath, and his mind goes absolutely blank.

shooting ropes after ropes of thick, buttery release against your lips. watching with glimmering, hazy eyes as your fingers catch the droplets of his release, reaching in between your thighs to slicken your cunt further with his climax, god, nanami truly thinks he's going to burst.

there's a faint, muffled groan from someone in the audience, and he can see the pitying, disapproving look in your eyes. for someone's broken the golden rule of silence, and well, the whole room is gonna' pay for that now. and miss out on a truly magnificent show, he'd wager. what a shame, but no big loss. he's truly extracted whatever funds they had, so these men are of no use to him now.

he gently runs slender fingers over your chin, dipping at the plush flesh of your lower lip, helping you up, "come, my love. i don't want you seeing this," pulling your open robes tighter across your heated flesh, he's guiding you to the door, past the rows of slack-jawed men. nanami kento certainly doesn't want the love of his life hearing the sounds of errant curses ripping flesh apart.

CHOSO KAMO ៹. the assassin

you not really sure what's stopping you from plunging the tip of a blade into the throbbing veins that bulge against choso kamo's neck. it would be so easy, and well, it would be fair too. you could claim self-defence too, for had the sorcerer killer not arrived to take your life?

but fate has a funny way of doing things, for there's a hazy smile playing across your lips, fingers twisting into loose strands of dark hair that fall to choso's shoulders, gasping as he rickets his hips into you, greedy as his cock drills you against the damp alley-wall.

"you're not t-that good at y'job, are ya'?" you're teasing, gasping as you can feel every inch of choso's thick shaft pressing disorderly pecks against your cervix, deeper than you really thought possible. and god, the assassin looks ruined. how ironic that you were the one who took him out instead, with nary a weapon but the one that he loved between your thighs.

the taller man's groaning, amber eyes misty, squeezing shut as dark lashes flutter across pale, blotchy skin like brush strokes on an oil canvas. "s'good, oh, f-fuck," choso's lips bloom a pretty shade of bruised pink, "yer' killing me, baby."

he's jerking his head back, partly from the sheer pleasure running through his veins, and partly due to your nails bestowing a harsher, tighter tug to the back of his head. it's got him sheepishly giggling, utterly pussydrunk on you, "sorry, bad choice of words, huh?"

whatever retort was blooming on your open lips falls apart when you feel the cherry head of choso's cock punch at you, pistoning slick smears of pre against your sweet spot, hot and heavy. he's filling you up in the most delicious way imaginable, and you take the moment to run your hands over his back. over the tight top that clings to his build like a second skin, melded into the ashen pallor of his bulging upper arms.

choso's effortlessly got you poised on one arm, jostling and cursing as his fingers loop around thick, coiled chains dangling from the spear strapped to his back. he's fumbling for a split second, throwing the weapon on the ground with little care, all so he can hold you better. cold fingers pressing against your mouth, a waiting command for you to wrap your tongue around the tip of his finger. tasting yourself, from when you had first guided his hand to the apex of your thighs.

"c-close?" choso murmurs, questioning and chasing after your lolling tongue, looking equally wrecked, as he slams the very last of his inches into you. bottoming out with a thick, sticky pop! the final push has him hitting the perfect spot to make you writhe and squirm. sealing him into a kiss this time to muffle the whine that threatens to erupt from you.

knowing that that choso's got you pinned to the wall of an alley in one of the most run-down districts of the city, where none travel save for ill intentions, and yet, anyone could still turn the corner and see exactly where the base of choso's cock meets your hips in clingy slaps of arousal and pre swirled up together.

"the f-first time i've never been able to finish the job, heh," choso muses, his tone almost gentle despite the mean way that he's delving into your walls, "don't think i can face m'boss after this, tch', o-ouh, fuck," choso's leaning into the crook of your neck, sinking pointed canines into soft skin. leaving marks that will surely bruise and bloom in shades of deep violet, when he separates his tacking, syrupy lips from the juncture of your swan-arch.

you groan, unabashed, when choso stills for a second and bestows you with a heady kiss, all before plunging right back in to you, "who would have thought i would be the o-one to bring the sorcerer killer to his k-knees?"

choso's giving you a half-lidded, lazy look, flushing a brilliant shade of blossom-pink, as though he's got all the time in the world, smoothly dragging his hand down further until its patting at your mound, "p-patience, i'll give ya', that too."

TOJI FUSHIGURO ៹. the office worker

"oh, it's you." that was your disappointed, flat intone when toji fushiguro pushed through the elevator doors after you, earlier that day. the man was the office's terminal underachiever, barely even showing up on the clock, but it was hard to complain when he proved such a delicious sight for the eyes in a rumpled black dress-shirt, rolled up to reveal glorious thick forearms dusted with faint, dark hair.

"oh, it's t-too big, toji!" and that's how you somehow ended up, practically pressed flat into the most brutal, nasty mating press in the backseat of your car. toji's large hands splayed across your thighs, legs achingly hooked over his bent form — but the ache between your legs was far more pleasurable. glossy strands of slick snapping and clinging to your skin where his thighs snapped against yours, steady at a pace that wouldn't rattle your isolated car too much in the basement lot.

"didn't think i was gon' show up today, doll?" toji groans, slowly bucking his sharp hips forward so every inch of his cock explores the walls of your pretty, pretty pussy. "that's why y'were flirtin' with that stupid –" the man's muffling back a heavy moan, "that stupid worker on the s-second floor?"

you're not quite sure how toji manages to do it. defying the laws of physics and matter to somehow reach in between the two of you, to slap around the treacly mess gathered at your pressed groins. toji's circling your throbbing clit in faux pity, all as you heave, "you're jealous? t-that's what this is, hah?"

toji's jade, sharp eyes narrow as though he's hesitant to put a name to the emotion, settling to roll and pinch at your swollen bud, hoping that you can feel every vein and fold of skin rummaging through your syrupy cunt, "n-no." but the quake in his voice gives him so brutally away, and it has you grinning. pulling toji fushiguro down for a clash of your lips against his, so that rough scar brushes against your skin, twitching almost as though toji's smiling into the kiss. what a bastard, you hate how he's ensnared you.

you hiss, pulling at soft, silky strands of raven hair, "keep it down, fushiguro –" heart racing with every ricketing motion of your poor car, swaying back and forth, tucked away in this dim little corner of the office basement lot, "s-someone could see, could fire us, hnghh', b-both."

it's clear that toji fushiguro doesn't quite share your concerns, that shark-like grin beaming in brilliant ivory, nipping at your neck, tugging the corners of your blouse with his teeth, "someone, as in – fuck, ya' got a killer grip, doll. someone, like that fucker on the second floor?"

you roll drenched hips further into toji's abdomen, feeling dark hairs tickled at the very lowest base of your own groin, "if ya' wanna be exclusive, t-toji, just say so." head thrown back for toji to bestow heated kisses all along the expanse of bared skin, tossing your employee lanyard aside.

toji punctuates his answer with a sharp tack of his hips against your clit, "yeah. exclusive, you n' me, doll." the burly man must be close for he's flushing, babbling at you as though you're undoing every stitch holding his slacks (and sanity) together, "i'd do a-anything. clean up my act for ya', show up every day jus' to see that pretty fuckin' face."

your own hazy, shaking climax washes over you, just as toji stills, pumping rope after rope of translucent, creamy cum right into you. creating an awful, sticky mess that leaves you writhing, panting toji's name into his open mouth, "do all that, f-fushiguro, and y'can have me in any way you want."

GETO SUGURU ៹. the death painting

"please," the half-curse is whining now, prattling as you run hands over the dark, cotton robes that envelop him, "dunno' what this is, but it feels so –"

you're cooing, pressing soft and slick kisses to the corner of geto's pink mouth, "feels good, suguru? i guess you could say, hmm," running nails through the dark, silky strands of the death painting's hair, "you could say it's pleasurable, right?"

geto's nodding, adam's apple bobbing as his peach-fine features flush the most beautiful shade of crimson. looking nothing like the hardened warrior with an arsenal of special-grade curses, those of his own blood, at his side. he looks positively ruined, and you can feel the curve of his bulge underneath your teasing hands, running softly over the clothed shaft in the most innocuous way possible.

"can you, ouh –" geto stutters when your lips press a searing kiss into the throbbing vein on his creamy neck, where his shaky pulse jumps in staccato, "touch it? feels s-so good, love."

you're batting your lashes, tilting your head as though you have no idea about the effect you hold over the half-curse, "what? touch, oh!" slipping your hand past the band of his loose pants, underneath the deep violet fabric cinched at his waist, "here?"

resting your hand against the very base of his abdomen, right above where he craves you most. geto's bucking his hips up desperately, hoping that you'll get the hint and move past where you've hovering, right over a thatch of raven-curls.

you thinly smile, feeling the heat of his skin sear into you, before you've even touched his muscular, broad thighs. to think that you've got quite the warrior begging underneath you, well, it's got your own thighs damply clenched together. but that's a lesson for another day, for today, you want to see geto suguru gasping in your hold.

"hmm, suguru, y'know you've gotta' be a bit more specific," your nails run dangerously against his shaft, and you won't admit this to him yet, but the sheer length is making you gulp. all before you've even laid eyes on the magnificent inches that he's packing away underneath his robes, "do y'trust me, sugu'?"

geto nods, quickly and sharply, already shivering from your touch, "of c-course, 'course, i trust you." and the admission makes your pussy flutter, the idea of having this girth packed in you, drilling into you until the two of you see stars.

you press another gentle kiss to the corner of his lips again, reaching up to free his hair from the clingy knot resting on the back of his head. marvelling as ink-dark hair pools in sleek swathes, falling to his waist, giggling as geto chases after your lips, "hah, 'm gonna make you feel so good, baby."

you gently tug his robes to the side, revealing an expanse of chiselled skin, and clear-cut muscle. giving geto a coy look as you pull out his weighty, hot shaft, searing in your hands. it's just as pretty and big as he is, crowned with an angry-red head that seems to throb and pulse in your grasp.

"fuck," geto gasps, already looking drunken from your touch, "keep doing t-that, don't stop that, please." he's addicted to the way that your fist starts gently pumping him, slowly applying more pressure as you move from base to tip. dipping your tongue to taste the first, clear drops of pre that have already escaped.

you clearly didn't account for the physiology of those with cursed blood in their veins, for geto's already making a mess. you're certain that barely no time has passed at all, but there's already slick, gooey strands painting your hand. creating loud squelches as you roll your fist, thumb pausing to flit at his weeping slit.

"hey, suguru," you're murmuring, experimentally parting your lips over his bulging tip, "what would happen if i –"

you get your answer when you're barely enveloped his shaft, thick wads of stringy cum exploding out in glossy torrents, painting your chin in slow, clingy drips of geto's seed. geto, who's twitching and flushed in your hold, ears beaming red as he gnaws at his lower lip, "baby, you shoulda', fuck, should have warned me." pausing to give you a shy look, "wanna' try again?"

RYOMEN SUKUNA ៹. the strongest

"what the fuck was that?" you've never quite seen sukuna like this, this furious. this loss of composure just didn't quite suit ryomen sukuna, the strongest sorcerer that walks the earth in this day and age (though, rumours say that he may even hold a candle against gojo satoru, the famed king of curses).

over a decade you've known the gruff man, graduated alongside him, worked and fought alongside him at jujutsu tech, and yet you've never, ever seen sukuna as he is now. not even when itadori yuuji broke his favourite mug before class.

he's blinking crimson eyes in some sorta' haze, dark lashes fluttering as his mouth hovers an inch away from yours. you're not sure what sort of lecture this is, but the throbbing in your groin is a dead giveaway that you don't mind.

a large hand is resting on the nape of your neck, as though sukuna's not sure whether to pull you away or towards him, numerous silver piercing clinking as he shakes his head, "what did i say to ya' earlier, hmm?"

"erm..." no, not your best work.

but it's truly hard to focus when sukuna looks this good, painted in the evening light that filters through the window of the abandoned classroom, long after the students have retired. toned, deceptively fierce arms pushing against the navy jujutsu uniform, rose-pink hair mussed — no thanks to that special grade that was giving the two of you a hard time not so long ago.

he's pushing closer against you, and you're catching that scent, intoxicating and heady, "wasn't a rhetorical question, woman. didn't i tell ya' one important thing?"

you realise how easy it would be to wrap a leg around his slender waist, to pull the tall man in against the two of you were pressed flat against the desk but you tamp the lecherous thoughts down, time and place, yeah? "you said...," you falter, wandering if it's worth tilting your head to brush your lips against the man, "y'said not to get in the way."

sukuna's long fingers are curling at the shell of your ear, running over a stray strand of hair that's come undone in the earlier scuffle, "mhm, good girl. and what did ya' do, then? when i was busy using dismantle n' cleave?"

you sigh, already feeling sukuna's temper roll off him in waves, "yes, i got in the way," intoning flatly, looking anywhere but the concentric rings in sukuna's eyes, "look, if you're gonna' chew me out, can you make it quick? i ended up you helpin' anyway, and i dunno' why you're so pressed about –"

sukuna presses his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up in a kiss that leaves you whimpering, moaning at the desire (and something else that you know sukuna's gonna have a hard time naming) that erupts. bruising lips meeting yours with a fierce urgency, teeth scraping, and hands pulling your own uniform to the side, as though sukuna may lay down his life if he doesn't get to feel you this close to him.

sukuna's muffling something into the kiss, calling you senseless (well, hey! not true) and oblivious (maybe) and gorgeous (true enough, that's fair). you're not sure when his large, tattooed hand managed to pry its way up to your thighs, but you gasp at the feeling of your suddenly drenched panties being torn off with little bravado. sukuna's grinning, all sharp fangs, as he tucks them away into his uniform pocket.

"fuck me." you're groaning, gasping at his thumb hooks over your clit, rubbing hot, tight circles into your most sensitive spot. you're not sure if it's exasperation or a plea colouring your words, but sukuna seems pleased, quirking a brow, "yeah? that's what you want? think it'll get ya' off the hook?"

"please fuck me," you correct yourself, reaching for the metal buckle at sukuna's hips, fulfilling that vision of hooking sukuna in. rocking him closer to your bare, dripping core so he can align his fat, heavy tip against your glistening entrance.

your eyes flit down to the very base of his cocks, where coarse, pink hair teases your flesh, and — oh. sukuna's tracking your line of sight, flushing when he sees your eyes widen, taking in the dark, tattooed ring encircling the base of his shaft.

"don't ask," sukuna grunts, ears flaming red as you giggle, nipping at your ear, "hold on f'me now, can ya' follow that instruction, at least?" the man truly thinks he may lose it, right then and there, watching how your puffy folds bulge around the head of his cock. how it's you, the woman that he's been in love with for ten years, giving him a dazed, lopsided smile when he finally, finally slides it in.

"fuuuck," sukuna groans, pale-pink hair tickling at your forehead as he leans in, "yer' taking me well, heh. not too big for ya'?" he's grinning, even when you swat a droopy hand at him, clenching hard around his girth, "don't flatter yourself."

but it's only when he starts rocking his hips back and forth, imprinting his cock right against your walls, that sukuna begins to lose his mind, losing all sense of other duties and responsibilities. thoughts of the report that he has to submit to the fuckass higher ups, the quizzes he has to grade for the dumb, little first years, oh god, the bills he has to pay. poof! gone, vanquished by the sticky-sweet hold of your intoxicating cunt.

"wanted this for sooo long, woman," sukuna grunts, "you got no idea, wanted you," he punctuates his words with a sharp tack of his hips, "only you. always you, only one for me, heh. i'd take out anyone who says otherwise." and your sweet, pretty whimpers in his ear only make him all the more desperate, ready to slam bullseye on that sweet spot. thank god, classes are over for the day and the campus is empty, for he's got you allll to himself now.